Tactician's Pride
by RyanEX
Summary: A re-telling of the classic FE 7 story with a hopefully more realistic take on it
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One**_

_**The Lady and her Men**_

"What is that?"

"What?" Startled, Mark looked up from his writings.

"That book you keep writing in every night," Lyn gestured with her free hand, the other busy stirring a small pot of stew for their evening meal. "What is it?"

"It's a journal I keep. I use it to keep track of the various political situations of each kingdom, the predominant troop type, strategies and such..," he gestured as he spoke. "It's important to keep records if I'm ever employed by a kingdom."

Lyn shrugged at this last statement, clearly uninterested in the thought of serving under any of the lords of the Lycian League or any other country. Sprinkling a small amount of salt over the small pot she declared it done, ladling out portions into two deep bowls.

Thinking her curiosity sated, he accepted his portion and returned to his writing while sipping from the bowl of savoury broth. So immersed was he that failed to notice her movement until a slim hand moved over the parchment. Uncomfortable her could feel her breath as she mouthed his most recent writings.

"I never knew that there no men in the Pegasus Knights."

"It makes sense when you think about it," he took one last sip from his lukewarm broth before continuing. "Pegasi aren't as strong as Wyvern, but faster and more agile. They can't afford to be weighed down by a man in full armour. But..."

"A small woman in light armour will be a little conseqence." Lyn finished. She shifted more to her side of the fire, much to Mark's relief, her expression thoughtful. "We should be in Bulgar by mid-day tomorrow if we start early."

Taking the hint Mark closed his book, replacing it in his pack, before lying back. It was his turn to sleep first, and he fell into a comfortable dreamless slumber in a few minutes. Across from him, quietly contemplating her situation, Lyn sat cross-legged only too aware how there situation would be read by the more traditional Sacae when they got to Bulgar.

Something was off, he realised. It took him a few minutes to figure it out.

Lyn.

Gone was the friendly, energetic woman he'd been walking the plains with. This new Lyn was almost...demure, he realised was the word he was looking for. She kept her eyes downcast, maintaining a few steps behind him. As he realised this he also noticed the rest of the people in the town. The older women were boisterous and loud. The younger women were acting as Lyn was, avoiding any contact with members of the opposite sex. Speaking of the opposite sex, the looks he was getting from the young Sacaen men was at best envious and at worse, downright frightening.

"Possibly a Sacaen custom," he realised to himself, filing it away in his mind to question Lyn about it later. Their need for supplies outwieghed his curiousity, at least for the moment. Bread, dried meat and new weapons. They'd also need mounts. Getting to Bern would take a month on foot. Moving around the small trade town they could find no horses for sale. Finally frustrated Mark stopped at one of the many hawkers.

"Pardon sir, but we're looking for a pair of horses."

"Names Farn, boy. And there're none around," the hawker, a sinewy old man, grunted out. "The _Kutolah_ are supposed to be bringing a herd up, should be here in a few days...mebbe a week."

"A week," Lyn burst out. "That's too long."

Farn narrowed his eyes, glancing at Lyn, taking in the markings of her dress. "_Lorca_, ain't you."

Lyn shrank back under his scrutiny. Mark glanced between the two of them. Clearly there was something he was missing...

"Heard tell that their chieftain was sharing his tent with some foreign woman. And that she was trying to stir up the women." Farn turned and spat. "No wonder they were such easy meat for Taliver."

Lyn's face whitened, and she grasped at her sword. Realising her intent, Mark stepped before her, covering her sword hand with his.

"A time and a place, Lyn," he murmured into her ear. "And now is neither."

Feeling her relax, he gently guided her away from the old man and back towards the centre of Bulgar. Ignoring the loud whispering and giggling from the locals he maintained a hold on her arm until he found, what appeared to be, suitable lodgings.

The inn, was surprisingly clean considering the dusty appearance of most of it's clientelle. Most of whom ignored the two newcomers in lieu of their drinks. Spotting the unoccupied bartender, Mark moved up gesturing for his attention.

"One room please," he said to the young man behind the bar. "Two beds."

"Two beds, sir?"

"Yes," he snapped, glancing back at Lyn who's face was regaining it's colour. "Two beds."

Ignoring the looks he garnered from his outburst he added, "And please have food and hot water sent up. It's been a long day."

Taking the proferred keys the two of them moved up the stairs as the sound of clanking armour announced the arrival of two foreign knights.

"Dammit Sain, what have I told you about your little _problem_?"

"it's a curse Kent, my friend," the knight in green protested. "How can I not notice the beauty that surrounds us since we entered this untamed land?"

Removing his helmet, Kent shook out his sweat soaked red hair, taking in the stares he and Sain were receiving. Staring back, most of the locals refused to meet his eyes, returning their attentions back to whatever they were drinking or eating. Satisfied moved over the bar.

"I'm looking for information," he stated.

Almost as if amused by the situation the bartender took in their armour and crests in a glance. "And what would a pair of Lycian knights be needing from _barbarians_?"

Kent grimaced. He'd expected this. Just not this soon.

"I'm looking for the _Lorca_ tribe. Do you know where we could find a guide to their lands?"

"The _Lorca_? You're a bit late there friend," the bartender replied. "The _Lorca_ were wiped out by the Taliver maybe a half month ago."

"Wiped...surely there must have been some survivors?" Sain moved up,Kent's face paling.

"There was some talk that the _Kutolah's_ took in some renegade plainsfolk," the bartender said, doubt clouding his features."Those could be some survivors."

"It's a start," Sain stated, placing a gauntleted hand onto Kent's shoulder, as Kent relaxed. "Where do we find them?"

"They're driving a herd here as we speak. Riding the plains to find them would be pointless." The innkeeper stated pointedly, "They don't like being disturbed when they're working."

"Well if that's the case..."

"NO." Kent turned to his partner with gritted teeth."The Marquess trusted us to bring them back as quickly as possible. You know about his condition..."

"And how quickly will we bring them back if we get lost in the plains," Sain stated, glancing uncomfortably at how Kent was holding the pendant the marquess had entrusted to him. "Have you forgotten how long it took us to find Bulgar? The Caelin maps weren't very accurate."

Kent grimaced at that memory.

"Fine we'll stay," he grumbled. Seeing Sain's face light up, he felt compelled to knock him down a few pegs. "But you better not cause any trouble. Or I swear before the goddess, I'll leave you for the lynching party this time."

Sain sagged, muttering about the unfairness of life, as Kent turned back to arrange their rooms.

"He was right you know..."

Mark looked up from his platter of food. Behind an improvised screen he could hear the trickle of water as Lyn sponged away the dirt and sweat.

"My mother was trying to change the tribe. And since she was the chief's wife...," Lyn left the statement unfinished.

Swallowing a mouthful of horse meat and bread, Mark decided to head off her self pity. "Whether or not she was trying to change anything, that old fool had no right saying what he did about the massacre."

"Lyn, among the warriors in your village where did you stand?"

"Me?" There was a slight rustle of clothing, as she moved out from behind the screen. "My father only started training me maybe a year ago after my mother convinced him it would be best for me to be able to defend myself."

"So with only maybe basic training, you were able to defend yourself against Batta and his men." He handed the young woman a fresh plate of horse steak, bread, cheese and vegetables. "I'm sure your people gave better than they got."

Seeing her cheeks tinge pink at the compliment, Mark grinned as he moved behind the screen to take his turn with the water. Looking over the horse meat without relish Lyn, felt a strange need to get back at her friend. Why? She wasn't entirely sure.

_**Next Morning**_

"I'm going to check the local Armoury." Lyn said, slipping on her cloak. "Remember to keep that hidden," Mark replied, nodding at the blade. "I'll see if there's any new information on the herd...or maybe we'll get lucky and there're some horses for sale."

Stepping out into the street, Mark felt the need for one more caution, and touched her arm. "Remember, don't let them get to you."

Nodding, Lyn moved off. It was actually a lot easier moving around on her own. At the armoury she dickered and managed to get a good deal on a pair of iron swords. Pleased with her acquisition, she realised she now had some spare time. Feeling the need for the open plains she angled towards the town exit.

"Please wait O beautious one."

Startled, Lyn looked up at a brown haired knight clad in green armour. His face was handsome, except for the developing bruises on either cheek.

"Could you favour me with your name," he continued. "Or better yet, your company."

Ah, so that was where the bruises came from.

"And where do you hail from, sir knight, to speak so freely to strangers."

"I hail from Lycia," he pounded his fist to chestplate in salute. "Caelin, home to men of passion and fire."

At this Lyn gave an unladylike snort, "More like the home of callow youths with loose tongues."

If anything that just seemed to encourage the green knight even further. Leaning forward he replied "Ah, but you're lovely even when you're cruel.

It seemed only right. Cocking back a small fist, Lyn fired off a punch, that drew applause even form the more traditional members of their audience as the knight tumbled from his horse. Tossing her hair back she stated, "I honestly have nothing more to say."

Lyn felt as if a load had been lifted from her shoulders as she walked off. It had felt good to finally just let loose and hit something. A smile flickered on her face, which was quickly replaced with a frown as she she found the exit blocked by another knight, this one in red armour, arguing with a red faced merchant.

"Excuse me, could you move your horse. It's in the way."

"O...Of course," the red knight stammered out. goading his mount to the side.

"Thank you," Lyn said, moving past. As she started to move she heard a "Hey Wait."

Turning she groaned as she recognised the green armoured knight as he stopped near what appeared to be his companion.

Feeling cruel, she turned to the red knight, stating, "You sir, at least seem decent enough."

Swinging on her heel she started walking off, only to have her arm grabbed. Swinging around, eyes wide, she found the red knight staring at her with an odd intensity.

"Pardon my forwardness...but I feel like we've met before..."

"Hey Kent, no fair, I saw her first." The green knight cried.

Angry now, Lyn yanked her arm from his grasp. "Seems like there are no decent men among Lycia's knights."

Stalking off she heard the red knight, Kent, whirl on his companion, "SAIN, you lout."

The rest was lost to her as she reached the edge of town and sucked in a lungful of the hot air. She coughed as her lungs were assaulted by air, free of smoke from the armouries and market fires and free from the stale sweat smell of dozens of people. Then she wrinkled her nose. Turning she found herself in the process of being surrounded by several unfriendly looking men holding what looked to be well-used axes.

A grin on his face at his latest purchase, Mark bit into a bright orange fruit. Eyes rolling back into his head as the juice rolled down the side of his face, he bit back a moan of pure bliss. Oranges weren't local to Sacae, and as such expensive. But, as far as he was concerned, they were worth it. He couldn't wait to...

"Out of the way! Out of the way!"

He came back to himself in time to avoid being run over by a large crowd. streaming towards the centre of town.

Grabbing hold of a youngster caught up in the mess, he pulled him free.

"What's going on," he shouted to be heard over the yelling.

"Trouble at the gate, sir." The youngster replied. "Bandits. They're attacking two knights and a woman."

_A woman...oh goddess_

Tossing the youngster an orange, he sprinted towards the gates, loosening his cloak for access to his daggers.

"Better make sure. Wouldn't want to damage a fine piece of ass like this by mistake, would we lads."

Lyn kept her face neutral as the massive leader of the group surrouding her strutted foward. The axe tossed casually over his shoulder, the blade easily the size his barrel chest.

"Is your name Lyndis lass?"

Shock fluttered across her face. Only two people ever called her by that name. Shaking her head in an effort to keep focused she shot back, "And if I am?"

"Such a waste, such an awful waster." The bandit shook his head in mock sympathy. "The things a man does to make a gold. Oh well, time to die darlin'."

Hearing the pounding feet of one of the bandits charging behind her, Lyn ducked. As expected, the bandit swung his blade in a fierce horizontal sweep, aiming to behead her. The force behind the swing gave it the power to punch through armour, but if it didn't connect it left the user off balance and vulnerable. Like now.

Pirouetting, Lyn drove her sword into the bandits belly. As he screamed in agony she ripped the blade up to his chest before kicking him off the blade. Whipping her sword to remove the blood, she reassumed the ready position her father, a blade lord, taught her.

Anger flickered across the leaders face, "I was going to kill you quickly. But for that I think I'll just disarm you and let the boys have a little fun with you first."

Lyn kept her eyes and ears peeled as the bandits smirked, circling her, ready to charge in and overwhelm her...

At leats they were till the thunderous sound a horse charge surprised them, and two more of them were cut down, one with his head removed, the other impaled on a lance. Kent and Sain moved their horses to either side of Lyn, shielding her from the encroaching bandits.

"Attacking a lone girl." Sain cried. "Cowards, the lot of you!"

"This is my fight," Lyn shouted, the _lone girl_ comment biting at her pride.

"Apologies milday, but it is a knight's duty to protect the we..innocent," Kent corrected himself. "Even if it's not our country."

"Damn knights, always interfering in other people's business," the bandit leader seemed less sure, but a hell of a lot angrier. "You dare confront Zugu of the Ganelon bandits."

_"If they don't.."_

Zugu staggered as he felt a sudden blow to his back.

_"I certainly do."_

Looking up Zugu, saw a slender form in a brown cape, moving past him. Surprised he tried to lift his axe, only to realise it was no longer in his hand. Looking around he saw it on the ground...

How'd it get there...

Reaching for it he tumbled over as the world suddenly went dark.

With their leader dead the remainder of the bandits were disorganised and easy. When the town militia came pouring out of the town, many opted for flight, realising that surrender would just mean a swift trip to the gallows. Wiping his daggers clean with an oil soaked rag, Mark decided he had calmed down enough to talk to Lyn. Moving over to where she was sitting atop a boulder, his tirade caught in his throat as he realised how sad her expression was.

The last time she'd looked like that was when she'd told him of the attack that claimed her parents and most of her tribe. Sighing, he sat down back to back with her. He felt her stiffen then relax.

"So.."

"So?"

"You going to tell me what happened. I'm guessing this wasn't random."

He felt Lyn's head against his neck as she tilted it upwards, "They knew my name...my real name."

"Your real name?"

The sound of a throat clearing got both of their attentions. Turning together they found themselves almost cheek to cheek. Quickly getting up, a red faced Mark confronted the two knights.

"I believe some introductions are in order," he said, eyes narrowing as he took their sigils in. "I am Mark, tactician. And you gentlemen are...?"

"I am Kent," the one in red stated. Nodding to his partner," and my companion is Sain. We are knights from Caelin canton, on a mission from Marquess Hausen."

"Well met, knights of Caelin." Mark was familiar with the ritual of greeting. "I thank for coming to the aid of my friend. She's a bit strong-minded, but an excellent comapinion."

"Actually, we believe our business involves your compainion." Kent moved forward, pulling a locket from inside his armour. Jumping down, he bowed to Lyn. "If I may?"

Lyn nodded, feeling a trifle overwhelmed by all that was going on. Kent opened the locket, eyes flicking back and forth between Lyn and the picture within. His throat tighted and his face reddened.

"It's her."

Moving up Sain glanced down,"Truly the likeness is astounding."

Lyn felt her face turning hot from the scrutiny, and glared over at Mark, who's expression seemed almost amused at her discomfort.

_"Help me,"_ she mouthed.

Feeling sorry for her, he moved over shielding her from the two knights. As he did he made a mental note at the look of irritation on Kent's face. "I think you'd better explain what it is you're looking for."

"Fifteen years ago Lord Hausen's daughter ran away and eloped with a Sacaen chieftain. The Marquess was so enraged he refused to acknowledge her as his daughter any longer." Kent started.

"Then, about a month ago, he received a letter telling him that she'd had a daughter, named after her grandmother," Sain chimed in. "The knowledge that he had a granddaughter, brought about a change in our lord that we'd never seen."

"He ordered a dozen of his knights to find his daughter, and tell her that all was forgiven and of his desire to meet the granddaughter he never knew he had." Kent finished.

Mark knew where this was going."And you're saying that Lyn is that granddaughter.

"The marquess's daughter's name was Madelyn. The chieftain she married was called Hassar."Kent stated.

Lyn gasped, her eyes widening."Those, those were my parents..."

"Were?" Kent/Sain exclaimed.

Putting a hand on Lyn's trembling shoulder Mark stated,"maybe we'd better head back into town. It's getting late, and this might take awhile."

It was approaching midnight by the time both sides finished their stories. Lyn now held the pendant of her mother, Mark looking over her shoulder, biting into a fresh orange.

"The resemblance is remarkable," he noted. "The hair's a different colour and the face's a little softer..."

"Softer!" Lyn glared up at him.

"Uh...I mean..." Mark tried to think of something that wouldn't dig himself deeper into a hole. Thankfully, Kent saved him.

"So, what do you intend to do milady?" he asked. "You're grandfather is unwell. And is quite desperate to see you."

"I... I don't know." Lyn wavered. "Mother never spoke of her father, and now you tell me he's alive and wants to see me?"

"Then there's also the fact, that I believe our two friends aren't telling us something," Mark stated, looking at the two young men intently.

"What are you implying," Kent bristled.

"Three reasons," Mark held up a finger." Lord Hausen sent half a dozen knights to find his lost family. Common sense would dictate, one, maybe two at most would be able to move around unnoticed. Sending more indicates he's expecting trouble and that this family would require protection.

"Secondly," he held up another finger. "Lyndis's village was destroyed a little over a week ago. Not long after your lord got word of her existence."

"Finally," he held up a third finger. "Lyn said that Zugu called her _Lyndis_. A name that she said was only known to her father and mother...and by extension...her grandfather."

"So what I want to know is," he snapped, his eyes angry. "What haven't you told us? Who is trying to kill Lyn."

Sain's face paled as Lyn's face mirrored Mark's anger. Kent however looked thoughtful as he regarded Mark with fresh eyes.

"I'm impressed," he remarked softly. "I guess you weren't jesting when you called yourself a tactician."

"His name is Lundgren." Kent started. "He's the Lord's brother. With Lyn's mother out of the picture he stood to inherit the throne of Caelin. However, should the Lord have reconciled with his daughter..."

"He stood to be passed over by Madelyn and her husband," Mark finished, eyes thoughtful. Staring at the ceiling he took a final juice filled bite of his orange, before tossing it out the window. "Lyn, now that you know, what do you want to do, it's your decision?"

"I...I want to go to Caelin," she said. "I want to meet my grandfather. And I need to see my granduncle. If he truly is responsible, he must suffer Sacaen justice."

Mark grinned. He knew she'd say that. "Well gents, I guess we'll be travelling companions on the morrow." He said turning to Kent and Sain.

Sain whooped, while Kent dropped to his knee before Lyn. Taking her hand he declared. "As long as I draw breathe, your will is my command."

Lyn's face turned bright red with embaressment as Sain shouted," well said Kent. Sain is also at your beck and call milady."

"Looks like you two expected to do some hard riding," Mark noted, as he mounted a spirited thoroughbred. "Why else would you ride with spares."

"None of us knew where we'd find you," Sain remarked. "Better to be on the safe side."

"So where to?" Lyn asked

"There's an oasis, about a day's ride south from here." Kent said. "That's where we agreed to meet back up before we split up again."

"South," Lyn murmured, astride a spotted mount. "There's a shrine to the south where the sacred blade is held. Would it be possible to visit it, after we've regrouped?"

"It's up to you Lyn," Mark said moving alongside her. "They've sworn fealty to you, so they do as you command."

"Really," Lyn glanced around shrewdly eyes settling on Sain, who blanched at her look. Lyn however, merely tossed her hair settling comfortably in the saddle talking animatedly to her companion. Sain breathed a sigh of relief. Failing to notice to look of brief jealousy on Kent's face as he urged his mount into a canter to keep up with his new liege lady.

_**Author's Notes**_

_No I'm not bashing on Kent. He's my favourite knight, however I'm writing him as he was portrayed, in my opinion ingame. Devotion is not a far step from obsession. As for Sain I think I kept him fairly in character. And the tactician, well I haven't decided what I'll make him. Maybe a unique class, that's not a god, I don't like godlike OCs so I'll never write one. _

_As for updates. This will be slow. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter two**_

_**The Sacred Blade**_

They stayed at the oasis for three days.

During this time, Lyn discovered a love for horsemanship. This however did not mean she was any good at it...

This mean't that she spent a lot of the time recovering from various bumps and scratches under the cool shade of the trees.

Too ease her frustrations, Kent and Sain took turns telling her of her mother's homeland. The rolling green hills. The small and large towns, all constructed from whitened granite, as well as the golden sea of grain during harvest time stretching endlessly unto the horizon. Also they told her of Lord Hausen, her grandfather. Supposedly a leader beloved by his people, and trusted by lords at his borders. The departure of his daughter sent him into a spiralling depression that almost crippled his ability to lead. Learning of Lyn's existence seemed to reignite Hausen's spark of life, and reinvigorated the old man despite his growing illness.

Inbetween this she found time to train, now with three sparring partners instead one, much to Mark's relief.

On the third day the refugees arrived.

Exhaustion and despair were etched into the bandaged bodies on the tanned Sacaens as the stood off, nervously eyeing the two figures of Kent and Sain, until Lyn rushed forward. Her presence seemed to reassure the men and women as the settled, many groaning with pain from obvious wounds, in the shade of the oasis. Using pieces of linen from their packs, Lyn busied herself helping the few uninjured men, and women, making makeshift bandages for those worse off. Their leader, a priest called Maric, told the men that they hailed from the small village that sprung up around the self same shrine that was their destination.

"It was madness," he said shaking his blonde hair. "The shrine is sacred to all the tribes of Sacae, bandits know that attacking the shrine would enrage them."

"What is it that they were looking for?" Mark asked. "From what our friend's told us, the shrine has none of the type of riches that would attract thieves."

"Not the average thief no...but their leader is a swordsman," Maric replied. "He wants the Mani Katti."

"A sacred blade..." Mark nodded to himself. "That would call to the more unscrupulous of those that wield swords. Judging from your situation I'm guessing he has it then?"

"Only if the sword chooses him..." At this Kent coughed. Maric looked up at him, anger flickering in his eyes. "I'd expect that from a Lycian knight. But, despite what you might believe, no one can move the blade unless it so chooses. Many have tried. None have yet succeeded."

"This's all well and good," Sain remarked. "But considering what the priest's said, maybe we should skip the visit to the shrine."

"Ordinarily I'd agree. That would make the most sense...however," Mark glanced over to where Lyn was now tending to a young man, more a boy, with a broken arm. "I think Lyn would oppose any decision along those lines.

Following his gaze, both knights fell into an uncomfortable silence. Feeling their gaze, Lyn looked up, curiousity etched into her gaze.

"Better go check on the weapons," Sain muttered.

_**Later**_

"The temple was converted from an old fort that was used when Bern tried to invade Sacae over two hundred years ago." Mark, Kent, Sain, Lyn and Maric knelt around a drawing in the sand of the temple. "It was a small one, designed only to hold, maybe fifty soldiers, but it's main use was likely a way station for their Wyverns."

Around them, the few uninjured refugees gathered, a kind of nervous excitement permeating the group at the thought of retaking their holy place.

Gesturing at the picture Maric continued, "There were only around ten bandits, all were fairly skilled. But their leader was in a class all his own. He slaughtered three of the temple guards in as many heartbeats. It was he that captured the bishop and forced our guards to retreat."

"I think you'll find that Caelin knights are a sight more capable than a few hired hands," Sain remarked. Then he gestured down. "That being said, I don't relish the thought of charging through the front door. Even if we were to get in, they'd still the hostage"

"You surprise me Sain, I'd never have though that you understood subtlety." Lyn remarked.

"There's a lot about me you have't seen yet milady," Sain winked. "I look forward to the chance to show you."

"Enough, Sain." Kent commanded. "As much as I dislike it, I don't see any other option, but a frontal assault. There're no other way of entrance."

"Then we make our own."

"What?" Lyn looked up from where she was in the process of strangling Sain.

"This temple is over two hundred years old. In my experience unless it's members are of the upper class most old churches have a weak wall or two," Mark glanced over at Maric. "Is my assessment correct, priest?"

Maric swallowed, embaressment reddening his face, "You are sadly correct. The western wall is indeed in need of repair at various junctures. Here...here...and here."

"Near the altar...excellent. That's also most likely where they'd be keeping the bishop." Mark said. Rising he moved over to his pack picking out an orange. Slicing off a piece of the fruit, he began pacing, eyes focused on the picture in the sand. A few seconds later, he squatted in the sand, a free finger circling the weak point nearest the altar.

"Using axes and pikes, how long would it take to knock down this wall."

"If enough of us are it, maybe two minutes," was the general answer. "But it'd be safe to safe they'd hear us at it."

"You leave that to me."

_**At the shrine, several hours later**_

_"I'll take the rest of the people to Bulgar," Maric said. "With hard riding hopefully the soldiers there will be in time to help."_

Kent held no illusions about reinforcements. It was down to two knight, a tactician, an untrained swordswoman and six militiamen that looked more at home in the fields than on the battlefield. Added to which he felt the plan Mark cooked up to be insane...

"You're brooding again," Mark remarked.

Kent glanced over at him, his irritation rising. Mark lounged at their hiding point behind a slate of granite, obviously mean't to repair some area of the shrine, "Well excuse me for being anxious."

"Anxious of my plan?" Mark said. "Or anxious because I assigned Sain to guard Lyn."

Kent flinched at the jibe.

"It's Lady Lyndis," he snapped. "And I follow her orders, however I might feel personally."

"She's not her mother, you realise, " Mark continued. "The more you keep thinking that she is, the more it'll eat you up inside."

"I don't think that it's any business of yours." Kent gritted.

"You're right...it's not."

The two lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. A short time later, as the sun was setting, they heard the soft cry of the spotted winged owl.

It was time.

Rising from behind the slate, they focused their attention on the two guards outside the temple. Kent hefted a Javelin, while Mark readied his daggers. Nodding in unison, the two left into view, Kent's Javelin flying true, impaling the left guard through the chest. The other guard raised a shout, that was answered from within, before one of Mark's daggers slammed into his throat. From inside several axe wielding men rushed outside.

"Well that worked well." Kent remarked, drawing his sword. "And the second part of your plan was..."

Holding his other dagger before him in a defensive position, Mark glanced at him. "Not dying."

_**Sain and Lyn PoV**_

"Sounds like the Kent and Mark have started," Sain remarked. Behind him the militia had begun hacking away at the broken wall.

Lyn however had a pensive look in her eyes, as she stayed in the shadow of the building.

"They'll be fine, Sain assured her. "Kent's one of the best of our battalion. And I saw Mark fight. They've got the fun job. All we got to do is swoop in and rescue the old guy."

Nonetheless the sound of constant battle in the distance, despite being reassuring, made her nervous. When the wall finally collapsed it was a relief to finally be able to do something to take her mind off of it. Rushing in ahead of the militia she stopped just below the altar. Following close behind Sain stopped as he followed her gaze.

Atop the altar was a thin blade, giving off a faint blue glow.

The Mani Katti.

The man holding his sword to the bishop's throat spoiled the view though.

"I thought I'd have more time, considering how fast you trash ran last time," the swordsman remarked raking his gaze over the group, resting on Lyn and Sain. "Oh, I see you got me some fresh meat to play with. At least the bitch will give me something to do after I'm done with the rest of you."

"You're awfully sure of yourself friend," Sain remarked, moving forward. "I'd like to know the name of the one who's going to end my existence."

"I am Glass, my power is known all throughtout Llia and Bern," Glass gestured grandiously. "Even the gods fear my name."

"Yet you hide like a simpering whelp, behind an old man," Sain noted, voice dripping contempt. "I think the name Glass, killer of defenseless women and old men, would be more accurate."

"Oh, this one?" Glass glanced downward at the prostrate bishop. "This one's outlived his usefulness.

"NO!" Sain yelled as Glass ran his sword across the old man's throat. The bishop gave a single gurgling cry before toppling forward, dark red blood dripping down the stairs.

With a scream of rage Lyn hurled herself forward, sword flashing out of it's sheathe to clash loudly with Glass's. Swearing Sain unsheathed his own blade before turning to the stricken militia, "leave him to us. Keep to the plan and go help our friends."

For moment it seemed like the militiamen would break from the plan, such was shock and grief on their faces. Then one by one they turned and sprinted for entrance, while Sain turned back to the fight. Maric's assessment had been correct. Glass used his sword like an extension of his own body and was in the process of driving Lyn back. Joining the fight, Sain leapt in as a particularly powerful blow drove Lyn back several paces. Glass however never lost momentum swinging his sword up to block Sain's downward blow. Lunging forward he butted at Sain, knocking him to the ground. Lyn however had recovered, and prevented the intended deathblow, driving Glass back several paces with her sheer fury. Sain quickly rose to assist.

Despite being outnumbered it was clear that Glass was the superior fighter. Staring hard and Sain, he feinted a thrust. As Sain jumped back, Glass pivoted, driving a boot into his stomach knocking him down from the altar. With one opponent out of the fight, albeit temporarily, he now focused a smug gaze on a hard breathing Lyn. Cocking his head to the side, he remarked. "Do you hear that?"

Unwilling to be distracted, Lyn attacked again only to be slowly driven back towards the altar.

"I'd say that about now my boys would have killed off whoever you had at the front. And those trash that went to help won't last very long, "Glass remarked smugly. Using both hands he delivered a final blow that knocked Lyn's sword clattering down the stairs and knocking her atop the altar. He reached down grabbing the light blue fabric of her robe. "Now then, let's get a look at what I'll be enjoying tonight."

Dragging her up to eye level he remarked, "Oh yes..very pretty. Hard to believe that these trash can have women like this but..."

Furious now, Lyn swumg her foot in a forward arc and felt contact. Which was more than Glass could say as his eyes rolled back into his head, releasing Lyn and dropping to his knees on the floor. Down below, Sain winced, his hands unintentionally moving down to protect his jewels. Spinning, Lyn dove for her sword only to be brought up short as Glass grabbed her leg, causing her to fall across the altar.

"You're going to pay for that," she could hear the pain and fury in his voice as her fingers scrabbled at the altars flat surface for a hold. Her hand settled on the Mani Katti's. In her mind she heard a soft _click_ as she swung her arm in a backwards arc. With an audible _hiss _the blade came free from it's hilt slicing across Glass's face. looking back, Lyn saw surprise etched in his face as a red line was drawn, almost slowly across it. Lyn flinched away as the top part of his head tumbled to the ground as his body went limp. Kicking herself free Lyn rose slowly, avoiding looking at the corpse, stumbling down the steps. Sain offered her his shoulder, which she took numbly.

A sudden noise from the shrine's entrance drew their attention as one of the militia, bruised and bloodied staggered in.

"We...we're done outside as well," he said, his eyes resting on Glass's corpse.

"Kent and Mark?" Sain asked.

"They're a bit cut up," he replied. "But they'll live."

_**Outside**_

"It was crazy," Mark declared. "These guys were good, very good...OW, easy there."

"Suck it up," Lyn said, tightening a bandage along his arm. "Looks like the two of you got lucky."

"Sometimes luck is all you need," Mark gestured at the newcomers. "If the militia had been any later it could have ended very badly."

Acknowledging his praise the four remaining men continued tending to the large fire intended to be a beacon to guide any help from Bulgar through the night's dark.

"I must say though Kent," Mark remarked turning painfully to face his comrade. "You impressed me. I'll have to re-evaluate my notes on the Lycian cavalry.

Being worse off, Kent had been the first to receive treatment. Nonetheless, his better conditioning allowed him to appear better off. "As...did you," he remarked, grudgingly.

"One day you're going to have to tell me where you learned to fight."

"One day, maybe..." Mark smirked. "But don't hold your breathe."

_**The next morning**_

"I'm so sorry," Lyn said, bowing low. "I know we promised to save him, but..."

"His life was the god's to take," Maric replied, the sorrow on his face reflected by those around him. Behind him the signal fire had been built up, onto which the bodies of the bandits were being thrown. The sickly sweet smell of burning flesh filled the air. "Onto other matters. I would see the Mani Katti, that you now wield."

Silently Lyn drew the sword from it's scabbard, the light blue glow drawing gasps from the crowd. Frowning slightly, Maric reached for the blade...only to withdraw his hand hastily as the blade's glow suddenly changed to a fierce fiery red.

"The Mani Katti has finally chosen," Maric made the sign of the goddess, calling down a blessing. Around them the Sacaens all fell to one knee, heads bowed in reverence. Glancing around Mark, Kent and Sain shrugged then also dropped to their knee heads bowing. Flustered, Lyn looked around wildly at the kneeling mass of humanity. Finally all that had been happening caught up with the young woman as her eyes rolled back into her head as she tumbled to the ground in a faint.

"Well that can't be good..."

"Milady."

_**Later**_

Lyn groaned, coming back to her senses. The Ger was dark, with the curtain drawn, but as her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she saw Kent seated cross-legged across the room, dozing. Hearing a soft snore, she also caught sight of Sain asleep while standing across from Kent. Rising from the bed she realised that her clothes were curiously softer, and with a look of horror she realised she'd been changed from her leather robe into a soft linen shift. Glaring around, she heard the sound of voices just outside. One she recognised as Marks'...the other was of a light feminine pitch.

Her eyes widened. There was no way...

Pushing aside the entrance curtain, she saw Mark conversing with a small girl...woman with a mass of pink curls. Marking down notes in his journal, he was clearly oblivious to the look of nervous fear on the girl's face.

"Florina?" Lyn blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

They turned to face her. Mark gave a grin as Florina flew over almost knocking her over as she latched onto Lyn's midriff with a cry of, "Lyn."

There was the sound of clanking armour as Kent and Sain barrelled out of the hut. Kent gave a sigh of relief, while Sain's face took on a rather lecherous look as Florina clung to Lyn, glancing around her at the men in terror.

"She showed up after you passed out." Kent said. "It took awhile for us to figure what she wanted. Seeing as how she refused to land."

"But once we got her to realise you were with us,she came down pretty quick."

"Though you almost scared her back up," Mark replied sourly. "In case you're wondering Lyn, Florina handled changing you. So you can relax."

"That doesn't explain why she's here," Lyn replied. Gently pushing Florina off, she gave her friend a stern look. "Why did you come here Florina, especially without Fiora or Farina?"

"They were away on missions, and I heard that you were trouble," Florina said hesitantly. "So I rushed over with Huey, but you weren't there so I..."

"I'm fine, as you can see." Lyn gave her a smile. "Even more to the point, you know how you are around men. Flying around on your own is risky."

"I've got to learn." Florina looked up at Lyn stubbornly. "I want to go with you Lyn. I can't keep relying on Fiora and Farina to help me if I want to become a true Pegasus Knight."

"If she's as determined as that, we might as well take her."

"What?" Lyn glared at Mark furiously.

"She's made it clear she has no intention of going back," he pointed out. "Would you rather have her here, where we can keep an eye on her, or wandering around on her own?"

Though she disliked the idea, she had to agree with his logic.

"Very well," she acquiesed grudgingly. Turning to Florina, she continued. "But if you're going to travel with us, you'll need to formally introduce yourself."

Florina managed a nervous curtsey as she said. "Pegasus Knight - in - training Florina. Pleased to meet you."

Kent bowed, while Mark nodded. Kent however...

"It's always an honor to meet a vision of loveliness such as yourself," Sain proclaimed, grabbing her hand. "Know that you've won the heart and devotion of Sain, knight of..."

"Shut it..." Kent grunted, exasperated, as he pounded Sain across the head, knocking him to the ground as a terrified Florina clung to her arm.

"That was uncalled for," Sain remarked glaring up at Kent.

"I beg to differ," Lyn remarked, laughing. A sudden strong wind sprung up, and Lyn was no longer laughing as, with an outraged cry, she realised the shift was now clinging to her in places she'd rather others not know. Unfortunately, looking up, they now knew.

A gush of blood exploded from Sain's nostrils as he passed out, a satisfied look on his face. Both Kent and Mark turned away coughing, their faces bright red, the same thought echoing in thier heads.

_"I could see her breasts."_

With a cry of embaressment, Lyn fled to the sanctuary of the Ger, Florina close behind.

"You realise this is going to be our fault." Mark said

"Oh yeah." Kent replied.

"But definetly worth it." Mark continued.

"Definetly," Kent grinned. Impulsively, he offered Mark his hand. Surprised, Mark nonetheless grinned back and gasped Kent's hand in the wrist shake of fellow warriors. Each grabbed an arm, dragging Sain back to the Ger they'd be given to await their punishment.

_**The Taliver Mountains**_

_"So Glass is dead..."_

_"With Zugu's group, this makes almost twenty total, we've lost for this contract."_

_"it matter little, if they can't handle and a girl and a few knights we have no use for them."_

_"Why are we using Ganelon's group. Just let me take my Wyverns and..."_

_"Our employer was explicit. It must look like a mere bandit attack. Wyverns would defeat that purpose."_

_"So what do we do now?"_

_"Send me Dorcas."_

_**Chapter two End**_

_Another chapter completed. This one seemed to flow a lot easier than the first. As players of FE 7 would notice, there're already some deviations from the gameplay storyline. This is intended as, like i said, I'm trying to give it a more realistic flowing feel._

_A thanks to my reviewers. Yeah I goofed with which FE it was based on. I'm using Wordpad to write and it seems to leave out quite a bit when I convert it on the FFnet upload. I'll see what I can do about that._


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

_**LYNDIS LEGIONS**_

Mark raised a hand to his brow, wiping away at the sweat that coursed down his face. According to the maps they were only a few miles from the Sacae/Lycia border.

And not a day too soon by his estimate.

Lyn was growing increasingly irritable as every village they passed through had people who insisted on trying to touch her new sword. Failing in that, they settled on touching her. And Lyn was a person who liked her personal space. As such they'd taken to avoiding the main trade route in lieu of a more direct, if less smooth, route.

This mean't that they weren't able to get a proper nights rest, or even a bath, in days. Coupled with the constant attacks by both bandits and what seemed to be every sword wielder that thought they'd make a better holder of the sacred sword dropped her mood from bad to worse. As much as Lyn loved her homeland, the better they were out of Sacae the better.

The others weren't faring much better. If anything it was the exhaustion that was eating away at everyone's patience. Camping was fine, but a rest in a proper bed was something everyone craved eventually. Florina especially was wilting in the grasslands. Kent and Sain were doing moderately better, having removed their heavy armour in favour of lighter and cooler chain mail. He himself was quite comfortable in his leather, and quite content to work on his journal. He'd experienced irritable women before, and to the best of his experience it was best to just let them get it out of their system.

The sound of galloping horses brought him out of his reverie as Kent and Sain returned from _scouting _as they called it. Giving Lyn a wide berth they moved their horses to trot alongside his...

Not a good sign.

"There's a well known inn along the border," Kent started. "Good food and clean beds. It also maintains a small group of mercenaries for protection. We could be there by midday."

"Plus it's owner is quite easy on the eyes," Sain put in. Seeing the looks he was getting he excused himself, urging his horse into a trot.

Nodding to himself, he turned to look over at their leader's stiff back, "and I'm guessing you want me to talk her into stopping there."

"Our Instructor back in Caelin always told us that there three things a man never messes with," Kent said. "A wyvern, a cook, and an angry woman."

"Smart man," Mark muttered. Realising it needed to be done either way he turned back to face Kent. "Fine, but you owe me for this."

Relief showing on his face Kent nodded as Mark shifted his horse to intercept at Lyns. With a loud flapping and a blast of breeze Florina landed her pegasus, Huey, nearby.

"Not good," she whispered pensively, watching Mark approach Lyndis. "Not a good idea."

They both watched as both Mark and Lyn started talking. Lyn's expression was less than happy as Mark started to talk to her, but to the surprise of both, Lyn seem to acquiese to whatever it was he said. Patting her shoulder he moved over to his two surprised companions. Gesturing forward he smugly remarked, "Shall we go!"

_**Plainsgrass Inn**_

With a sigh of pure bliss, Lyn sank into a tub filled to the brim with hot water. Breathing a deep breathe she smiled happily to herself. The state of the inn had been a welcome surprise. Nestled at the bottom of a small hill it was surrounded by a stone wall, reaching a woman to waist, bordering a small woodland. The inn itself was also constructed from stone, with a wooden paddock for the animals. After arranging their rooms the men and women had seperated. Florina had yielded the bath to her first, citing a hunger for a proper cooked meal.

Perfume had been poured into the water, giving it the scent of desert roses. Untying her hair she scrubbed away at the dirt, grime and sweat that had caked her body for far too long. As the filth flowed away, she felt her muscles relax as her body begged for the chance to just soak and relax in the wonderfully warm water. She fought the urge to linger knowing that the tub would have to be refilled for Florina to take a bath of her own.

Sighing, she rose from the water, patting herself dry with an available towel, before stepping back into her room. It seemed a waste of wood and space, and she'd scoffed at Sain's remark of how each room had came with a closeted bathroom. It seemed like an unnecessary luxury but right now her tired body was relishing it. Then she frowned.

Her clothes were gone. Her pack was still there, and her weapons...but her clothes were gone.

In it's place a linen dress,dyed in blue, was laid across her bed. Remembering only too well what happened last time she wore a dress, she peered out the door. Signaling a passing serving girl, she asked about her clothes.

"Oh, your handsome friend asked that we wash all the clothes," she said brightly. "They're already downstairs right now."

"Handsome?" Her right eye gave a twitch. Then sweetly, she asked. "Which one are you talking about."

"Oh, the red head." Was the reply.

Thanking the girl, and asking her to send up hot water to refill the tub, she turned back to the bed and sighed. Considering Kent's personality he probably mean't nothing but what the girl told her...and for some reason she felt insulted.

Shrugging she quickly put on the dress, relieved that it wasn't as thin as her last one, and headed downstairs to join the others. Opening the door she almost ran into a terrified Florina as she was reaching for the door. Giving her friend a sympathetic look she allowed her to enter before closing the door behind her. At the top of the stairs she could hear the loud sounds of merriment below.

_**XXXXX**_

_**Mark's PoV**_

Shovelling stew from a deep bowl into his mouth, he was doing his best not to choke. The stew, made from mutton and potatoes had awoken his hunger like nothing had in months. The meat was tender and the potatoes well cooked. Sopping up the thick gravy with a slice of said potato he took a moment to catch his breathe. Around him was a scene of organised chaos as girls in low cut bodices and short skirts moved between tables with practiced ease, dodging groping hands and smiling professionally at words spoken. Around the room, and probably why most of the men didn't follow up on their crude proposals, were ten rough eyes men in chain mail who were the only one's allowed weapons in the main hall. Their leader, a huge man called Bartre, stood near the entrance in case any might object to the rule.

"Didn't I say the food here was the best," Sain said. Mark looked up from his meal, nodding, as Sain walked past with a buxom brunette on his arm. At his wink, Mark couldn't help but shake his head. Either Lyn and Florina had higher standards, or he'd underestimated Sain's ability to handle women. Either way, he didn't care as he refilled his bowl from the pot in the centre of the table.

"Hope you left some for the rest of us."

Looking up, he did a visible double take as he took in Lyn's new look. Without her hair tied back in in the sever ponytail, and the dress, she looked very feminine.

Pretty even.

Shaking his head, he gave her his customary grin, "the food here's fantastic. You have to try this stew."

Smiling back down at him, Lyn settled into a chair and taking the proferred ladle and filling an empty bowl on the table. Spooning in a mouthful of the stew, Lyn had to agree with his statement. The soup was indeed quite good.

Better than her own food, she ruefully acknowledged. Glancing around the room she turned back to Mark, "Where're Sain and Kent?"

Sitting back and running a hand through his hair Mark took his time responding. "Kent's probably still cleaning up. And Sain..." Mark hesitated for a moment. "Sain's probably...occupied at the moment..."

"You mean he's off with that serving girl he's been hitting on since we got here?"

Eyes wide, Mark stared at the young woman primly spooning stew from her bowl.

"Don't look so surprised," she chided him. "In the plains most of us are married off at fifteen. I was supposed to meet someone from the Kutolah before..."

Seeing her face twist from the pain of the memory, Mark placed a sympathetic hand over hers. Surprised at the gesture Lyn glanced up. Avoiding her eyes he hastily withdrew his hand as the inn door banged open to admit a new pair of travellers. The first was a young woman with pinkish hair wearing the bright white robes of the cleric order of St. Elimine. She possessed a superior air as she glanced around the room. The other...

Mark gulped down his mouthful before calling out.

"Erk?"

The other newcomer, a young man in a red robe, glanced over in surprise. An expression of irritation crossed his face as he talked to the woman he was with. Whatever she said made him grimace, nonetheless the two of them angled over to Mark and Lyn's table.

"Mark," Erk said cooly, pulling out a chair and settling down. Pushing back his hood Lyn could see he was a young man with dark purplish hair and a childish, yet serious looking face. Her examination was interrupted by a pale, heart shaped face surrounded by a mass of pink hair. She flushed as she endured the close scrutiny from the other girl before she gave a bright smile, sitting down in the last chair.

"I'm Serra," she chirped out. "I think we'll be great friends."

"Uh...yeah," Lyn returned to her meal to hide her discomfort.

Mark nodded at Serra before turning a questioning gaze at Erk.

"She's under the employ of House Ostia," he said. "Lord Pent thought that it'd be good training for me to experience being a bodyguard firsthand."

"But between the two of us," he continued in a loud whisper. "I think he's just repaying some old debt."

"I heard that Erk," Serra cried. "See if my healing prowess saves your hide ever again."

"You don't need me," Erk snapped back. "No sane mercenary or bandit would keep you prisoner for more than a few minutes. They'd pay the duke to take you back."

"OH, You're the WORST!" To compound her point Serra proceeded to dump the pot on the table over Erk's head before storming off.

Mark couldn't help but chuckle at Erk's face as pieces of meat and potato rolled down his face now covered in the thick soup. Around them the rest of the tavern roared with laughter. Stomping over to the bar counter Serra passed a fresh looking Kent who gave the cleric a wide berth, before continuing onto their table. Sitting down, he gave a double take after taking in Lyn's new appearance before nervously signalling a limping maid.

"What can I get you good...oh Kent, how've you been lad?" the maid, an older looking brunette with a friendly face, said warmly.

"I'm doing fine Natalie," Kent replied. "Any word on Dorcas?"

"Nothing good," her face saddened at the admission. "Last I was able to hear was that he was heading into Sacae. I'm making a little money here before the next caravan comes through."

"Who is she?" Lyn asked, handing Erk a fresh cloth, as Natalie limped off to deal with a gesturing patron

"A woman Sain and myself found a few months ago," Kent replied. "She was holed up in an abandoned church looking for husband. We helped her to the nest town, and promised to keep an eye out for him."

"How were you going to do that?" Mark asked. "Did she give you a picture?"

"No, an identifying mark." Kent replied. "He has a single line scar on his left cheek."

Mark gave a snort in response to Kent's last statement. At this Lyn gave him a scathing look, to which he cringed and mumbled out an apology. Erk's smirk was spoiled by a stray piece of meat sliding over his lips.

XXXXXX

_**Nightfall**_

The rest of the evening passed without much incident. Sain returned tired looking, but with a very satisified smile on his face. Florina eventually got her courage up to rejoin them downstairs for dinner. Serra seemed to take a liking to the shy young woman, her sharp tongue driving away many an adventurous mercenary not intimidated by the sight of four men at the table. In short order, their stomachs full and the thought of a watch free night sent them to their respective rooms where they fell into a worry free slumber.

**"ALARM ALARM!"**

Mark bolted up from his bed at the shouts, shaking his head, still groggy from sleep. A clatter and a thump showed him Sain tumbling out of his bed. Kent had already swing his legs off the bed reaching for his sword. Down below the sounds of combat, the shouts, grunts and curses of men in combat, could be heard.

"Hurry up Sain," Kent grunted, struggling with his chestplate, as he ran out the door.

Mark reached for his daggers, placing one between his teeth as he struggled to pull on his leggings. Sain chose to go light, merely slipping on a piece of segmented chainmail before heading down, just ahead of Mark. At the top of the stairs they found Lyn, Florina, Erk and Serra. Also an archer was busy trying to pick off the invaders when he got a clear shot.

The main room was the scene of a general melee as men tried their best to gut whoever they were fighting while trying not to kill, or be killed by, their comrades. Several wounded mercenaries stumbled up the stairs, helped by the women, to where Serra was busy using her powers to speed up their healing.

"Mark."

Staring over at Lyn, he nodded in understanding. Taking a cursory look below to gauge their landing spot, the two vaulted over the handrail. Going feet first, Mark felt the collarbone of the invader he landed on snap as he collapsed soudlessly. Lyn rolled with the fall to absorb the impact coming up behind a large bandit who's axe was already dripping copiously with blood. With a single fluid movement she drove her sword into his back, between the vertebrae, killing him instantly.

Kent and Sain were standing side by side, their swords wreaking havoc on any that came to challenge them. Together with the remaining guards they began to force the attackers back towards the door.

Over the sound of the carnage, however, the strident call of a horn could be heard. At it's sound the surviving bandits turned and fled, abandoning their wounded comrades. Surprise was on everyone's face at the sudden departure, with the exception of two.

Bartre had been in enough sieges to guess what was going to happen.

Mark had been expecting it. The fact that they'd bothered to go for the head on attack only mean't that they'd hoped to take prisoners. Now they'd clearly decided it wasn't worth the cost.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" Bartre yelled as spears and arrows started raining through the windows and thin walls. Not everyone got behind cover in time. Diving under a table, Mark saw as the bodies of mercenaries, serving girls and even a few brave overnighters were peppered with shafts, falling to the ground. Looking around wildly for his friends, he saw Sain under another table with Natalie. Erk it seemed had learned how to form barriers and was shielding himself, Serra, the archer and Florina upstairs. And Lyn...

It took him awhile to find her, as Kent was shielding her with his body. His plate armour deflecting most of the arrows, except for one in his leg and another that found a gap at his shoulder.

As quickly as it began, the deadly shower stopped.

The groans of pain and cries for help were painful to hear, as he crawled out from under the table to where Kent had Lyn covered. Kent's face was white with pain as the arrow in his shoulder had gone the meaty part of his shoulder, missing the bone. His leg, however was not so fortunate. Slipping Kent's arm over his shoulder he guided the limping knight up the stairs with Lyn's help. Erk's shield seemed to have held up as there no arrows in the upper area. Laying the redheaded man down, Mark snapped off the head of the shoulder arrow. 

At his nod, Mark yanked out the remaining length of wood as Kent screamed. Then Natalie was there, covering the wound with a damp cloth until Serra could attend to him. Sain's face was unusually grim as he took in the chaos that the tavern had become. There were very few left that were uninjured, and most of those were noncombatants. Lyn and Florina were there too, Lyn's face was a mask of anguish as she took in Kent's agony, while Florina kept herself occupied gathering unbroken arrows. She frowned as she held up several to the candlelight.

"I don't get it..."

Mark turned over to look at the captain, Bartre, his face streaming blood from a cut somewhere on his brow.

"They should've used fire," the large man muttered. "It's what I would've done."

Ignoring him for the moment, Mark walked over to where Lyn, Florina and Sain seemed to be having an argument.

"...going out there Sain." Lyn was saying, her voice low and angry.

"If you're lucky Lady Lyndis they'll just kill you," Sain argued. "Bandits have been known to take prisoners, especially women, for sport. Surely you know this?"

"It's not like I'm going out there blind Sain," Lyn retorted. "I have an idea."

"One I hope you'll share the rest of us," Mark said. Realising he now had their attention he turned his attention to Lyn. "I for one would like to know what you think just charging out there would do."

_**Ten minutes Later**_

"They doing anything new?" Sain asked...again. They'd just endured another volley of arrows, though now that they'd had warning the casualities were minimal. He'd managed to slip on his green armour and was watching their foes around a broken window.

"Nothing," Bartre replied, his voice laced with aggravation. "They're just standing there. Looks like they're arguin'."

"Interesting," Mark muttered, joining them at the window. he could see the silhouettes of their antagonists just beyond the wall at the wood's edge. Beside them were Florina, Lyn, Erk, Serra and most of what remained of Bartre's mercenary troupe. Kent and the rest of the injured were barricaded in the cellar. Lyn's plan was crazy, but he admit it was possibly their only option. Taking a deep breathe he nodded at Sain, who threw open the door.

_"They won't expect us to attack out in the open," Lyn said, outlining her plan on a table with a piece of charcoal. "This is our first advantage, and will give us a minute, maybe two while they try and regroup."_

Charging alongside Sain and Bartz, Mark eyed his first target, one wielding a pair of smaller axes. Behind them he could hear Erk chanting as a bolt of fire soared over their heads to explode in the midst of the raider group. Twirling his daggers, Mark hurled his left in an underarm throw that impaled his target before he could recover from the explosive shock. Pulling out a short sword he'd "borrowed" from a corpse in the inn he continued the charge.

The initial clash was thunderous as weapons clashed against armour and men were knocked off their feet from simple collision. Sain gripped his sword in a two handed grip, swinging his sword in controlled bursts keeping at least two at bay. Next to him, Lyn own sword flicked out using the point of the blade to flick at eyes and pierce jugulars. Florina, however, had turned into a dervish as she wielded a spear, spinning and twirling her weapon and body, creating a zone of centrifugal force already had a pair of swordsmen lying at her feet.

Bartre abandoned finesse for simply beating down his opponents with sheer power . His axe had already shattered numerous weapons. Inspired by their leader, his mercenaries fought like demons tearing into their opponents.

However the initial shock had worn off, and the raiders still had the advantage of numbers. Shouting commands a large muscled warrior brought the remaing men under control as they started to push back against the defenders. First one, then another defender fell. Florina had been knocked off her feet. Seeing this Lyn rushed over to her friend battling to hold back a pair wielding spears. Rushing to her side Sain powered down one, impaling him from behind. Mark opted for dragging Florina to her feet. He was already out of his depth, his word skills were below par and he wasn't overly adept at head on fighting.

_"If their leader really wants to take us alive, he'll want to hold off on using arrows in the open," Lyn continued. She pointed at the Inn's roof. "We'll need to make it so that he has no choice."_

"NOW!" Bartre shouted. "DO IT NOW!"

Behind them Erk raised his hands, firing off a lightning bolt that lit up the sky illuminating the battlefield. Temporarily blinded by the spectacle the raiders offered no resistance as the mercenaries fell back to the wall. Then, like a storm, arrows slashed through the sky, impaling men.

_"I only have one boy that can use a bow worth a damn," Bartre protested. "Wil won't be able to do much damage on his own."_

_"He won't have to," Mark replied, eyeing the serving girls._

Few of the girls had any experience with bows, however that was not necessary. The main point of archer volleys were to demoralise and cow an opponent since, most of the time, they were used on armoured men or men with shields. This time though, the men were lightly armoured and clustered, so even the poorly aimed shafts found targets. Erk covered their lack of accuracy, unleashing a barrage of fire, sending men flying. It was now that they heard what they'd been waiting for.

"ARCHERS!"

They came out from behind the trees. It only took a glance to see that Lyn had been correct in her assessment.

_"These are Sacaen made," she said placing the shaft on the table. "See the quills? They're made from the feathers of the desert eagle. It's sacred to all sacae."_

Nomads.

The elite among the Sacae and among the most feared warriors on the continent. That they would serve as bandits or assassins was a shock, and was what had had Lyn in a rage. There seemed to be only five of them, but that was five too many. Nocking their bows, they prepared to unleash a storm of arrows as Lyn leapt up from behind the wall onto it's ledge. Tossing down the iron blade she'd been using, she pulled Mani Katti from it's sheathe. The sacred blade of the plainspeople flared with a blue light that was easily noticeable. Even more noticeable were the Nomads' reaction.

To a man they dropped from their horses their faces planted into the ground. They could hear the leader shouting incoherently at the men, but whatever he was saying was proving ineffectual.

"Your turn Erk," Mark pointed. Rising up Erk's face took on a look of concentration as he channeled another bolt of ligntening, this one exploding in the midst of a group of axemen, the bolt drawn to the metal of their axes and the chainmail they wore. The smell of burn't flesh and metal filled the air as a fresh barrage of arrows filled the air. Screaming a battlecry Bartre leapt the wall and charged. Following his lead the remaining mercenaries joined the charge. Lyn jumped down and started running before being held back by Mark's hand on her arm. She glared furiously at him.

"It's already over," he stated, staring back at her steadily. She held his gaze for several seconds before the cries for surrender and mercy distracted both of them. Holding his men in check, Bartre sent two back to the inn for rope while he and the rest kept a wary eye on the raiders as they thre down their weapons. Thrusting the Mani Katti back into it's sheathe Lyn turned on her heel and stalked over to where the Nomads were being watched. They raised their heads, surprise etched in their faces.

Slowly and deliberately Lyn paused in front of each of the men and slapped each one. None even attempted to dodge the slap.

"You are a disgrace to your tribe, and to your race," Lyn said furiously, looking at each in turn. "You took up arms against innocents at the side of bandits and murderers and..."

"What?" The closest looked up at her rage crossing his face. "You call us traitors, when you're the one disgracing our people."

At this Lyn whipped out the Katti and held it against the speaker's throat. He never flinched and stared straight ahead. Florina moved to stop her, only to be held back by Mark. The seconds ticked by, before Lyn slowly re-sheathed the blade and walked back towards them. "I think we'd better have a talk with the one in charge."

XXXXXX

After binding the Nomads, an act Mark thought unnecessary they went looking for the large man they'd seen directing the attack. What they found was a bit unusual.

Natalie was holding onto the man weeping, as he had a pained expression on his face. Sain stood nearby a grim expression on his face.

"What's going on?"

"That's Dorcas," he replied bluntly. "He was the one leading the attack."

Which would explain the expression. Dorcas was coming to terms that he'd lead the attack that could have lead to his wife's death. The very same person who was, inadvertently, likely responsible for the position he was in. Mark knelt next to the massive man, who turned his head to watch him, his face expressionless.

"Who sent you?"

No response.

"Who told you you'd be meeting with Sacaens?"

Again no response. Nodding at Bartre, Bartre proceeded to backhand Dorcas, knocking him to the ground. Natalie screamed at the sudden blow, launching herself at Bartre who held her off easily as she pounded ineffectually at his arm. Slowly Dorcas rose back into a sitting position glaring up Bartre before spitting out a glob of blood.

"Why were you trying to kill my friend?" Mark asked.

"Wasn't trying to kill her," Dorcas replied shortly. His voice was surprisingly soft for a man of his size.

"No, you wanted her alive didn't you," Mark said. "Or rather a noble of Caelin wanted her alive."

Dorcas looked up at him, surprise and fear on his face, refusing to respond.

"Your silence tells me I'm right," Mark said continuing. "You didn't try to burn us out, as a common raider would have. You're Sacaen allies accused my friend of disgracing her people. And you held off using them until you had no other choice."

"Mark, what are you.."Lyn started.

"You could've been doing it just to minimise damage to the merchandise," Mark gave a nod at the women who were caring for the injured men, then glanced meaningfully at Natalie. Seeing Dorcas tense he continued. "But someone who'd become a bandit to get enough money to help his wife is not someone I'd see as a slaver."

Dorcas remained silent. Mark sighed and started to rise.

"He said his name was Bool."

"Bool?" Sain exploded. "That fat fool..."

"Quiet Sain," Lyn snapped.

"He said he came on behalf of the Marquess Hausen," Dorcas continued. "The Marquess would issue a general pardon if we agreed to eliminate a girl that was calling herself his granddaughter, and the rogue knights supporting her."

"ROGUE KNIGHTS!" Sain's face purpled with rage. "Bool is Lundgren's man. That fat fool had always toadied up him."

"Let me go," Dorcas spoke up. "Let me loose and I'll take you to where we were supposed to meet him."

"That's not gonna happen." Bartre snorted.

"What about the nomads?" Mark continued. "Tell me about them, and then we'll talk about releasing those ropes."

"They're from Araphen." Dorcas answered quickly. "We met up with them only a day ago."

"Araphen.." Sain nodded to himself. "Makes sense. Araphen has long been an ally of Caelin. It's marquess would assist if he believed the request was official."

"Lundgren's certainly no fool," Mark noted sourly. "If he's spreading this rumour under the guise of an official decree we'll have every soldier in Lycia looking for us."

A grimace on her face, Lyn marched up to where Dorcas sat. As he stared up at her, she swiftly unsheathed her sword, cutting through his bonds. As he massaged his shoulders she knelt beside him. "Your goal was noble, that I cannot dispute," she said, looking over at Natalie. "If you will help us I'm willing to overlook past transgressions. With Bartre's approval."

Put on the spot Bartre grumbled under his breathe, "You fought well. I'll let him go, but I will be giving you someone to keep an eye on him."

"WIL," he bellowed. A brown haired youth in blue leather ran up to them. The bow across his back identified him as the archer they'd seen in the inn...what seemed like a lifetime ago. His face was surprisingly young and friendly to be found in a group of grim mercenaries.

"Aye boss?"

"I'm selling yer contract," Bartre jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Lyndis. "She's yer new boss, go make yerself known."

"Aye sir," Wil looked over Lyn. "Name's Wil. Best archer across all of Lycia if I do say so myself."

"And do you say so?" Mark asked, amused if anything else.

"Nope," Wil grinned. "Second, mebbe third."

Lyn laughed at that, a full unforced laugh. "Welcome Wil. Sain will you fill Wil and Dorcas in on our heading. I'm going to check on Kent."

Sain gave a salute. Walking past Mark she paused for a moment. "Walk with me."

Falling into step beside her they walked in silence back towards the inn.

"I was to apologise." Lyn said softly. "I lost my temper...again."

"You did," Mark replied. Seeing her wince, he realised his intention of being blunt had melted away. "but you also handled yourself well with Dorcas. Someone's been teaching you etiquette."

Lyn flushed at that.

"Don't worry Lyn," he said resting a hand on her shoulder. "We're still good."

Walking off he failed to notice Lyn resting a hand on the shoulder he just touched, her face confused.

XXXXXXX

"My job is to get you to Ostia, and you..."

"...is to do what I tell you, I'm..."

Mark winced at the raised voices, the priestess proving to have both a sharp voice as well as tongue. He moved along the outer edges of the crowd that watched the pair hoping not to be seen.

"There you are Mark."

Dammit.

The priestess moved towards him, pink ponytails flapping behind her.

"Hi Serra," he said, plastering a smile across his face. "I take it you and Erk will be continuing to Ostia come morning."

"Actually we'll be coming with you," she smiled up at him. Behind her, Erk gestured frantically.

"That won't really be necessary," he said. "I'm sure we can manage. Besides, it's not a good idea to keep nobility waiting and..."

"Are you saying you don't need my help?" Blue eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No..No not at all," Mark waved his hand frantically before him. "it's just..."

"Excellent, I'm sure we'll be great travel mates." Serra smiled, then skipped off.

Mark stared at Erk, who's expression bordered between murderous and resigned.

"What the hell was that?"

XXXXXX

_Well this one took a little more than forever. Even after maybe five rewrites this one feels a little off, but tolerable. As you can see I've deviated even more. The Wil and Serra/Erk missions felt like little more than fillers, and the Dorcas mission felt too improbable. Why would a woman with a bad leg be out in the middle of nowhere? _

_Anyway rant mode off. Hopefully next few chapters flow better since I've had them in my mind for weeks now. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Cruel Homecoming**_

It was raining as they approached Castle Araphen. The weather had been turning more and more inclement the further westward they travelled, turning what should have been a two day journey into a week.

Forunately. despite Serra's incessant whining, the journey was more tolerable from the supplies they'd been given before leaving the Plainsgrass Inn. Having the five nomads also made hunting for wild game considerably easier. As such they were well fed and quite comfortable by the time they hit the town's outskirts. Gathering under the branches of a large oak, the sun sinking into the horizon, they paused to take stock.

"Well we're here," Erk muttered, teeth chattering beneath his cloak. "What now?"

"Now we find out what we're up against," Mark replied, turning to look at Dorcas. "How many men did Bool have with him when he approached you?"

"About ten," Dorcas replied. "Most of them carried lances and were heavily armoured."

"Armoured knights...great," Mark swore silently to himself, then he turned to Varth, the nomad in charge. "What about you, was the notice he carried official?"

"I wasn't there when commander Rath was summoned," Varth shrugged. "All we were told was that we were to meet up with a man named Dorcas and that we would be under his command."

"As Marquess Caelin's brother it wouldn't be hard for him to steal the royal seal," Kent grunted out, wincing in pain as Serra rested a glowing hand over his still healing leg wound. "Also Araphen and Caelin have enjoyed closer relations than most of the League for years. He'd believe it his duty to assist."

"Hold still," Serra commanded, gripping his leg high above the injury. "Healing bone is not easy. Unless you'd rather let it heal naturally and risk the gangrene."

"All that aside," Mark said, sparing the pair a glance. "It won't matter what we do unless we can convince Araphen that any letter Bool carries is fake. The one who gave you your orders...Rath was it?"

Varth nodded.

"Is he also Sacaen, like yourself?"

"He is Rath of the _Kutolah_," Varth appeared almost insulted. "Son of our chieftain, Dayan."

"Dayan the Silver Wolf!" Sain exclaimed. "He's famous even in Lycia. What's his son doing working for Araphen?"

At this Varth and the other nomads looked uncomfortable. Mark, however, seemed pleased at this. "Could you arrange a meeting with him?"

"When I tell him what the girl holds, I won't be able to keep him away," Varth replied.

"Excellent." Mark replied. "Would you be able to get to him before the gates closed?"

Varth opened his mouth to respond, only to be silenced by the sound of creaking hinges as the gates were swung shut.

"That's unusual," he said frowning. "It is far too early to close the gates.

"Delays...delays..." Mark muttered to himself. "Looks like there's no helping it."

Seperating, the small group moved about their evening activites to make their night as comfortable as possible. Florina cared for the horses, her fear of males apparently reserved only for her own kind. Sipping a cup of hot tea, Mark observed the young woman through narrowed eyes, remembering the dangerous whirlwind she'd seamlessly flowed into from her usual shy demeanor.

"She is easy on the eyes isn't she!"

Jumping, Mark turned to find Wil and Sain also observing the young woman. Scowling at the green knight Mark admitted to himself that Sain was right. Florina's shyness only added to her appeal.

"I'm gonna go for it."

At this declaration Wil rose from his spot and walked over to the yound woman. His leather boots squelched in the mud alerting Flora to his approach. Seeing who it was she angled herself that the horses were between herself and the archer. Shrugging his shoulders, probably to release some tension his bow slipped down his arm. At this sight Flora's eyes widened in terror and she fled, leaving the young man undoubtedly feeling rather foolish. Chuckling to himself Mark settled back, closing his eyes and letting the sound of rain lull him to sleep.

XXXXXX

Araphen's gates opened as the sun had fully risen over the distant mountains. The morning mist was light and damp, but still gave them cover and their cloaks protected them from the damp and close inspection. To avoid any untoward attention they had their horses covered in pieces of leather under the saddles. This kept Huey's wings hidden and avoided the questions that would be asked of a Llian mercenary. The town paths were surprisingly wide and clean. There was something else that was different here Mark noted, but he couldn't quite place it.

Then it hit him.

The air. The sour smell of the tanneries and butchers, the foul smell of horse and pig excrement. There was none of that here. Instead there was the sweet smell of honeysuckle and roses. All the houses had rows of flower bushes, neatly trimmed and cared for. The houses themselves were also very well built, all made from cut stone. Against this bright backdrop he uncomfortably realised that their dark and dirty cloaks made them stand out more than blend in.

"This is the place," Varth muttered quietly, dropping from his horse. Everyone followed suit and trailed after the man into a white washed building. "This is the commanders favourite inn. The food and drink here are beyond compare."

As the hour was early the tables were empty, though several young women were making rounds wiping the wooden tables and placing clean mugs of horn onto each. They looked up at the party's entrance and one, a slim redhead, smiled in their direction walking over while wiping her hands on her apron.

"Varth," she said warmly, kissing the Sacaen on his cheek. "It's been awhile, I've missed you."

"Sara," Varth acknowledged, his cheeks darkening with embaressment. "Has the commander arrived yet?"

"He hasn't come by since the Pheraen prince and his escort arrived." she replied. "Between Prince Eliwood and the Caelin knights he's been too busy to visit."

Varth swore at this and nodded at their group. "Can I ask you to care for my guests while I make my report to the commander?"

"You know you need but ask Varth," Sara replied, dragging a finger along his arm. "But I will require...payment...at a later date."

If possible Varth's face reddened even more as he grunted at his snickering men in Sacaen before leading them out the room. Moments later they heard the sounds of galloping horses. Chuckling quietly to herself the redhead turned to their group. "Sit yourselves," she said. "I'll see about getting you all our morning special."

The special consisted of kind of smoked fish, white bread and eggs that had been whisked in butter and seasoned with salt and pepper. While the food was delicious, the drinks were an absolute delight. There was a pitcher full of juice from crushed fruits mixed with honey. Thick and deliciously sweet. As they finished their meal, another girl brought them a tray with blue glasses filled with mead, wine made with honey, for Dorcas, Mark and the two knights.

A food and drink were excellent, yet not one in the group could manage to relax. Time moved by slowly as they waited for Varth to return...but the longer they waited the more the tension rose. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, Lyndis rose. Following her lead Sain and Kent both followed suit, but Kent sat back down with a muffled curse as his leg was clearly still hurting. At a nod from Mark, Erk rose. Giving them an irritated look, Lyn marched outside. Smiling to himself Mark sipped at his mead, then grimaced finding the drink a bit too rich for his taste. Pouring himself a glass of juice he sipped at that eyes following his companion's activities. Serra had cornered Florina and was chatting animatedly with the younger woman. Wil, Erk and Kent sat together, Wil apparently doing most of the talking while Kent rubbed absently at his leg. Erk however was looking at the young archer as if considering how he'd look without a mouth. Dorcas sat alone.

The axeman was obviously ill at ease with them, having been an enemy barely a week ago. He'd clearly been trying to make amends, though Lyn wasn't making it easy. Considering her past, he couldn't blame her for her resentment, if not outright hatred, of those that had followed the path of banditry. His silent musings were interrupted by the sounds of rapidly approaching hoofbeats and clanking armour.

"Finally," Erk muttered, rising from his chair.

"Wait..." Kent grunted, head tilted.

"What is it?"

"Something's wrong...that's not them," was the red armoured knight's reply.

"How can you tell?" Serra asked, Florina beside her, uneasy.

"Armour..." they all turned at the pronouncement. Dorcas stomped past them, axe in hand. "Varth and his men...none of them wore any armour."

Mark's eyes widened at the realisation and a sudden angry cry confirmed Dorcas and Kent's pronouncements. Rushing from the inn, they found Sain battling a pair of heavily armoured knights as another astride a large warhorse was racing off with a wildly kicking bundle.

XXXXXX

Struggling wildly Lyn tried to free her arms to grab at her sword. The man holding her however had pinned her arms as he held her across his horses neck. Men, women and children scattered as the horse galloped furiously towards Araphen's outskirts. Without warning, however, his grip on her slackened and she tumbled to the ground rolling twice before rising to a kneeling position. The horse kept on going, oblivious to it's rider who now was hunched over the saddle with a long arrow jutting from his back.

The cantering sound of a horse made her whip out her sword as she turned to face the newcomer.

XXXXXX

Placing her fingers against the cut, Serra muttered softly as she channeled the healing power of her staff. Sain winced slightly as the sealing of the wound caused an uncomfortable prickling.

"I never liked sparring against the heavy knights," he grunted, sparing the two corpses a glance. "Going up against them for real is worse."

Mark ignored him as he looked to the sky at Florina's whistle. The young girl was pointing excitedly at something heading their way. A horseman by the looks of it.

Said horseman found himself staring down at a small but volatile group. At least until his passenger leapt down lightly from behind him.

"Sorry guys," Lyndis said, her cheeks flushed with embaressment.

The mood lightened considerably at their leader's return. Sain knelt before her asking forgiveness for what he deemed his failure to protect her, while Florina flew at her friend gripping her in a tight hug. While she was swarmed Mark, with Dorcas in tow, approached the the grim-looking newcomer. He was a young, younger than Mark, closer to Lyn's age with a tanned face that was covered in lines that made him look older than he was with long, dark hair kept in place by a weather beaten bandana.

"Sorry for the reception," he started. "As you can see our friend is quite popular. We owe you a great deal for..."

Mark's greeting trailed off as the stranger dismounted and strode past him. Looking down for a moment Mark took a deep breathe clenched a hand into a tight fist, then sighed as he released it. He caught Dorcas looking at him curiously. Shaking his head he nodded back in the direction of the group which had opened up allowing the man to stand before Lyn.

"I am Rath of the _Kutolah_, head of Araphen's guard," he stated, his voice soft, "I would see what my comrades told me you possess."

Lyndis started, almost dropping into a bow, before unbuckling her sheathe and pulling the Mani Katti into the sunlight. Rath sucked in a breathe as the blade glowed blue, a hand reaching out to touche the blade before pulling back sharply. "What is it you want?" He asked, his voice almost sounding strained.

"All we want is an audience with the Marquess." Kent explained.

Rath merely glanced at the limping knight before turning back to Lyn. "That wil be...a bit difficult."

"Has something happened?"

"The knight Bool caught me as Varth was delivering his report. He's seized control of the throne room, and his men and mercenaries have closed off the castle," Rath replied. "I sent Varth and his men to gather more men from the borders."

"That makes no sense," Mark stepped forward. "Seizing Araphen is an act of outright war. There's no way the other Lycian lords will sit back and accept the situation...unless Bool's made demands..."

Rath looked away, "he wants the girl Lyndis, and the two knights escorting her brought to him or he'll execute the Marquess and his guests."

"Fact that you sent Varth for more men indicates that you don't believe him," Erk noted dryly.

"The Marquess was entertaining the prince and his entourage in his personal banquet hall. I highly doubt Bool has them personally in their custody." Rath replied.

"In that case shouldn't speed be our priority," for some reason this dark haired Sacaen irritated him, Mark realised. "The longer you wait for reinforcements the more you run of danger to your lord."

Rath's impassive face shifted as the left side of his mouth curled up in a half smile, "Varth was right. You are, at least, capable."

Moving back to his horse, he swung into the saddle before turning back to them, "Follow me, there's something I'd like to show you."

XXXXXX

The building they entered was small and enclosed, thick iron bars covering every portal. Simply put...a prison.

A dozing guard sat at the door, his hair slicked by sweat. From just the entrance they could feel the heat from the building and smell the sweat..and other things...that had been soaked into the very walls. Moving down the line, Rath stopped at the third cell. At the rattling of his saber against the bars a form stirred in the mess of hay against the wall.

"Commander Rath, how good of you to join us," The man behind the bars had a shock of dirty blonde hair and an out of place smirk of a young, if dirt gimed and sweat caked, face.

"We captured this little thief digging through guest chambers where Bool and his knights were housed." Rath said. "He managed to incapacitate two guards before we caught him."

"All well and good, but how does this help us?" Serra asked, slapping at a persistent fly.

"All entrances and exits are all but sealed during a royal visit. Yet somehow he found a way in," Rath replied.

The blonde haired man grinned at the admission, "what can I say. I'm the best at what I do."

"Well what you're going to do now is show us how you did it," Rath snapped. "If not..."

There was no need to guess where Rath was going. Lyn grimaced, a look Mark noticed and filed away to talk to her about. Unnoticed by him, both Rath and Kent also saw it.

XXXXXX

"I've worked for the Baron for almost three years," Rath murmured. "And I never new about this..."

The tunnel they were currently navigating had started at the castle's western wall near a large number of active bee hives. Fotunately the smoke from their torches had kept the inquisitive insects at bay.

Ahead, Serra jumped, and would have screamed if not for Erk's hand clamping over her mouth. The light scuttling under their feet were, at best, roaches and, at worst, rats almost the size of a small dog.

"How much farther is the exit," Lyn asked, her voice a bit high. Beside her Florina kept close, keeping a tight grip on her arm. Whether it was because of the men close by or the rats underfoot, who knew. They had been moving up a slight incline for several minutes.

"Not much farther," the thief, having given them Matthew as his name, said. "it widens up ahead if I remember...ah, here we go."

True to his word, the tunnel opened up into a chamber, surprisingly filled with a few basic amenities. A bed. A table. A small dresser. Serra and Florina settled onto a pair of chairs with sighs of relief, as Andrew tapped softly along the wall.

"Hurry it up thief," Kent snapped.

"Calm down," Matthew snapped back. "I've only been here once, and it's not exactly light..."

Tapping her staff to the floor Serra's began to exude a soft glow filling the chamber with light, "Is that better then?"

Three mouths uttered various oaths as Erk, Rath and Sain lunged at the cleric,Erk wrenching the stave from her hand, killing the light.

"Are you an idiot," Erk hissed. "They can see the light through the wall."

"Excuse me for trying to help," Serra snatched back her staff in a huff.

"Help? You stuck up..."

"Settle down lovebirds," Matthew muttered...then grunted in satisfaction as with an audible click a section of the wall swung open. Clambering out, they found themselves in sumptuous quarters. The floor was covered in a thick red carpetting while the walls were covered with portraits encased in gold frames. Frowning Rath moved over to a table, lifting a miniature portrait.

"This's the Marquess's late mother's room...," he said, confusion evident in his voice. "But I was never told of this passage..."

Mark noticed Sain and Kent share a quick look and made a mental note to ask them about it later. Right now he had more important things to deal with. "Where is the throne room from here?"

"The throne room is below us on the ground level," Rath replied, peering out of the large double doors leading to the hall. "The banquet hall is on this level near the end of the corridor to the right."

"Okay then," Mark looked at Lyn. "Lyn, I want you to take Kent, Erk and Serra and head to the Banquet hall. Rath will show you the way."

For a second he thought Lyn would protest, but her expression lightened and she nodded. As her group trooped out, he took a moment to grip Kent at the elbow. "I'm trusting you Kent," he said softly. "Don't make me regret it."

The red haired knight merely nodded, and set off in a slightly limping jog to catch up to the others. "The rest of us are heading downstairs...and just in case," Mark said, giving Matthew a shove to the front of the group. "We'll let you lead the way in case there're any surprises you may have forgotten."

XXXXXXX

_A part of her was still angry with him for sending her away from the fighting...though she understood why._

"That's the door," Rath pointed as they came to a stop outside a massive wooden door painted a deep red. Pushing at the handle only confirmed what they'd already guessed. The room was barricaded.

_Being there personally to rescue the marquess would help her cause considerably. Despite that she couldn't soothe the worry in the back of her mind that they might have missed something._

"MY LORD!" Rath banged on the door. "It's Rath. We've come to rescue you sir."

"This doesn't feel right," Kent muttered. "Shouldn't there be soldiers here trying to get in..."

"Rath?" The voice behind the door was muffled. Then there was sounds of clattering, presumedly whatever was being used to keep the door sealed was being moved. Pushing their way in Lyn found herself facing older people in servant garbs wielding what appeared to be kitchenware.

"It really is you lad," the speaker sighed in relief as he lowered the cleaver he'd been holding. "We thought the castle had been sealed."

"We'll talk of that later, Anthril." Rath said. "Where's the Marquess?"

"He and Pheraeans went to the take back the throne room." The one called Anthril replied. "They left some time ago..."

As Rath swore Lyn realised why she'd felt so on edge. The Pheraean prince and his escort. To be entrusted with such a task would mean that the soldiers would have to be of superior ability. Not the kind to tolerate being kept locked in a room. Spinning on her heel she sprinted from the room and back the way they came. Behind her she could hear the pounding of feet as her friends followed her.

XXXXXX

They could hear the sound of fighting before they even cleared the staircase. At the bottom they ran into a heavily armoured knight in red armour who sported the Caelin crest upon his shield. Whether there to prevent the Araphen's and their allies from retreating or to prevent any kind of reinforcements they'd never know. Dodging the thrust from his spear, Dorcas clenched his axe with both hands and brought it down with sickening force on his opponents helmet. There was a sickening _CRACK_ as blood and brains leaked from the helm and the knight collapsed face forward.

The throne room was a maze of struggling men, some in armour, but most wearing simple leather garbs. The floor was already slick with blood...unfortunately there were more unarmoured corpses than armoured. Sain gripped Matthew by the shoulder pulling the smaller man back, "Better find a safe corner thief."

His eyes widened at the declaration, "Just like that?" He asked.

"You kept your end of the bargain," Sain nodded at the staircase. "Better get going, I can't speak for Rath if he sees you."

"Not just yet," Mark placed himself between the thief. "I've got one last task for you."

XXXXX

His instructions given Matthew darted off between a pair of pillars. Mark turned back to his small group.

"Ready?" Mark asked. At the nods he pointed down at the melee. "Sain, Florina, you're with me, let's see if we can take out those knights. Wil, you take out any of the mercs when you get a clear shot. Dorcas, you cover Wil."

Both Sain and Florina nodded, the former taking a moment to place replace his helm on his head. Leaping from their cover at the stairs they charged a pair of Knights harrying what looked like a group of servants and a red headed fop. With a loud cry, Sain swung his sword, two handed and the knight's back. However his blade only dented the armour, the recoil knocking him back off balance. Turning around, the knight glared down balefully at the fallen Sain, stabbing his spear down. Scrambling back, Sain dodged the initial thrust. Stalking forward the knight prepared another thrust, as one, then a second dagger clanged loudly against his faceplate.

Looking up with a startled grunt he saw Mark with his cape billowing behind him charging. Ignoring the fallen Sain he stabbed out as Mark slipped into a slide going under him. Distracted he failed to notice Florina vaulting onto his wide shoulder plates. Until it was too late.

Until she rammed the point of her spear through the top of his helm and the brain within. As he sank to his knees his companion turned slowly now noticing the new oponents. The red head, taking the opening, lunged forward, his slender blade going through the open visor and mouth of the knight, his warning cry choking off to a gurgle. Wiping a smear of blood from a slice across the side of his face he looked over at Mark recovering his daggers.

"Those won't do much good here," he said, picking up a fallen lance, tossing it at Mark. "Use this..."

Mark winced at the weight of the weapon. Grunting he tried to hold upright a weapon the redhead had tossed to him one - handed. Finally giving up he passed it onto Sain who seemed to have no problem. Even more crushing to his pride was seeing Florina scoop up the lance the one she'd killed had dropped. "I'll stick with what I'm used to," he muttered. Straightening he faced the boy. "We're friends of Rath. It looked like you could use some help."

"Rath?" The face brightened. "Ah, Araphen's captain. He..."

"Careful, milord," the _CLANG _of steel on steel almost deafened him, as a tall figure shielded them from a charge from three sowrd wielding mercenaries. In a single fluid motion the man thrust his shield outwards knocking the three off balance then brought his sword around in a horizontal arc severing the head from one, and cutting fatal furrows across the chests of the other two. He looked over his shoulder at the small group. "How would I be able to face your father if you were injured by this rabble, Lord Eliwood."

"I understand Marcus," the chastened youth rubbed at the back of his head, clearly embaressed. Sighing he turned back to Mark as a gurgling cry signalled another that had passed too close to his companion. "The Marquess led the charge for the throne. That's him in the purple mantle."

Taking a moment to hurl one of his daggers in an underarm throw into the throat of a charging mercenary he looked in the direction Eliwood indicated. The Marquess was wielding a large claymore as he fended off a group of four heavy knights from within a dwindling circle of protectors. Turning to the stairs where Dorcas and Wil stood he gave a piercing whistle. Dorcas turned to look his way as Wil picked off a leather garbed swordsman. He nodded as Mark pointed in the Marquess's direction and spoke briefly with Wil.

Sain led the charge as they found themselves obstructed by what seemed like the last pair of the knights Dorcas spoke of. One of them wore a bright green armour in contrast to the red of the others. Batting aside Sain's thrust he slammed his shield into the young man sending him tumbling back. Leaping over Sain's dazed form Florina hurled her older spear at knight. The light weapon _clanged_ ineffectually against the thick armour of the chest even as she readied the heavier spear Mark had handed over. However her new opponent twirled his own spear in a vertical arc forcing her back as she searched for an opening. Mark could hear noise from the staircase, but couldn't be distracted by Dorcas and Wil as he strove to stay out of the way of the knight he was fighting.

He could see the grin as his opponent realised his lack of martial training. And indeed it was all he could do to stay out of the rapid spear thrusts. He could feel sweat dripping down his face. More from fear than exhaustion if he was honest with himself. His daggers weren't even scratching the armour and this one was keeping him away from any openings. To his left both Florina and Sain were struggling against the green armoured knight. With an almost casual sweep he batted aside Florina's spear, knocking Sain to the floor, his helmet tumbling from his head, in the process. Sweeping his spear up he then hesitated, staring hard at the young man who was struggling back to his feet.

"Sain?" The voice was muffled, but from the jerk of his head, Sain clearly recognised it. Mark cursed himself for his inattention as he leapt back to avoid a thrust from his own opponent, only to grunt in pain as his head cracked against the wall behind him. Dazed, all he could see was the look of triumph on his opponent's face as he heard a snarl of loathing from Sain and a roar of "BOOL!"

XXXXXX

From the staircase Lyn could see that the situation was conisderably in favour of the rogue Caelin forces. Despite the fallen forms of several armoured Caelins she could see that the defenders were divided into four small knots, fighting desperately. She quickly disregarded Wil and Dorcas as the pair were fighting lightly armoured foes and were in no apparent danger. The others however...

"Erk," she called, pointing at a group of three fighting against a ring of opponents. Shaking out the sleeves of his robe, Erk moved to the bottom of the stairs hurling a ball of fire at the clustered men. Three went flying from the resulting explosion. The rest were knocked off their feet and swiftly dispatched by the tallest man Lyn had ever seen. His face lined with age, but there was obviously nothing wrong with his swordarm. His companions a redhead in blue finery and a younger knight with bangs hanging over his eyes ran over to where Dorcas and Wil were still fighting. They fell on the mercenaries from behind slaughtering them before they even realised what had happened.

"BOOL!"

Lyn's head jerked around as she heard Sain's yell. Sain had thrown himself at heavy knight wearing armour as green as his own. Ignoring the pain his leg was still causing him, Kent charged past her to join Sain. Another cry of pain, and she saw Wil clutching at a sword buried in his shoulder as Dorcas's axe severed the arm holding it. She was finding it difficult to concentrate over all the noise of clanging armour and weapons. Her eyes seemed to follow all of the fights, and none at all.

Rath fighting with a pair of shortswords against a swordsman.

Kent joining Sain, both of them forcing their larger opponent back, step by step.

Florina jerking her spear from the throat of an armoured body while Mark...

Mark... Looking around wildly she didn't see him until she saw Florina helping him up, a large red stain across his arm just below the shoulder blade. Jumping down, she sprinted over to him, Serra in tow.

"I'm fine," he said, wincing. "It went straight through. Better get Wil to a corner though."

"That'll take some doing," Serra remarked, glancing back at where Dorcas fought over Wil's injured form, his own body criss crossed by small cuts and slices.

Lyn shook her head, "Dorcas underestimated how many troops Caelin brought here."

"Doesn't matter now," Mark replied, wincing as his head cocked to the side.

Lyn opened her mouth, then closed it as she heard it. A steady metallic thumping getting louder and closer. Even those locked in combat heard the noise, as the fighting ground to a hault.

A large troop of armoured and lightly armoured warriors marched into the throne room, Varth at their head. Lowering spears, the armoured knights advanced at a steady trot everyone scattering to get away from the wall of spears. Arriving at their target as one they spun on their heels presenting a menacing wall of iron before the Araphen Marquess. The rest blocked the exit to the castle's entrance. This done, Varth marched forward and loudly proclaimed.

"By order of Lord Araphen of the Lycian League. Throw down your weapons or be cut down where you stand."

For a moment there was utter silence. Then one by one there came the clatter as weapons were allowed to slip from sweat stained palms. Bool's was the last to fall as Sain and Kent kept close, their expressions begging him for a reason to let them continue the fight. One by one the forces under Bool were lead away a soldiers and servants set about the extensive task of clearing and cleaning the throne room. The only one not working Lyn realised, was the older man in a purple cloak. He dragged a large sword behind him, before settling down heavily on the large throne.

"That has to be Araphen," she thought to herself taking a step in his direction, only to feel a hand fall on her shoulder.

"Not yet," Mark said quietly, nodding his head over to a section of chairs their group had laid claim to. Wil's face was gray with pain, though the sword had been removed, Serra's hands glowing as she moved them along the outer edges of the gaping wound in his shoulder slowly moving inward. Considering his armour, Sain was relatively untouched except for several bruises along his torso, while Dorcas only sported a slice along his cheek which would no doubt leave a scar. Aside from Wil, Mark's shoulder was possibly the only other significant injury in their group. Frowning, Lyn glanced around, then spotted Florina coming out a door in the wings holding something in her arms.

As they sat, Florina ran up holding a small bundle of linen with a bottle of wine nestled within. Hesitating momentarily, she rested the bundle onto the floor picking up a single roll and the bottle.

"They didn't have any extra honey," she said nervously, eyeing the red stain on Mark's shoulder. "But wine alone should still help."

At Mark's nod she doused a large folded cloth with wine and began swabbing at the dried blood around the wound. Mark's breathing became faster as she moved closer to the wound, until finally, with almost brutal efficiency, she forced the cloth straight through and he screamed in agony, hands clenching. barely able to stay conscious. As Florina placed a clean cloth over the wound, wrapping it tightly in place, he felt something soft in one of his clecnched fists. Looking down, he followed the contours of the arm the Lyn's rapidly reddening face. Abruptly, his fist opened.

"Sorry," he gasped out. "Never was very good with pain."

Rubbing some feeling back into her numbed hand, Lyndis looked down at him for a moment, started to say something, then hesitated. Her mouth opened...

"So you're the one claiming to be Hausen's granddaughter..."

Though his face was lined with age, the Marquess exuded a powerful presence. She caught herself before she fell to a knee before him. Before she could answer, however, the Marquess gripped her face in a strong grip moving forward to examine her face. She felt herself blushing under her intense stare in the long minute before he released his grip.

"You have her face..." he said, voice trembling.

"Then you'll help us!" she said, her voice hopeful.

"No."

"What?" was the collective cry from multiple sources.

"You may be your mother's daughter...but you're also..._**HIS**_!" the marquess spat out the word with an attitude of utter loathing. "And I'll be damned if I help any of his get."

Lyndis felt herself staggering and would have fallen if not for Sain's timely assistance. This was not the homecoming she was expecting. Behind the marquess Rath frowned, his expression one of distaste.

"That was uncalled for Anren," the large knight she'd seen earlier said. "You can't hold her responsible for..."

"You forget yourself, Marcus," Marquess Anren grated. "You were there. You know what happened...and what it caused."

Macus winced under the rebuke, and a memory the two older men shared.

"As for blame, who do you think is responsible for this?"

"My lord, you can't possilby..." Sain started, as Lyn's feet got back under her.

"Can't I?" The marquess gestured around at the destroyed room. "My kingdom came under attack because I got caught in the middle of your family's struggle. Even my guests were endangered. All for some half bred Sacaen whelp."

The silence in the room after this outburst was deafening. Lyndis's face was stony as she rose to her full height putting out an arm to stop a furious Sain from attacking the monarch. "I apologise for getting you dragged into our family business," she said. "But I do not apologise for my lineage. My father was a great man who was loved by both my mother and myself. If anything, I feel sorry for you."

She turned from with furiously blustering marquess striding out of the room. One by one, her companions joined her, marching from the castle into the village below.

"Well played, Lyn," Mark grinned at her, moving closer. "I'm going to have to start calling you _My Lady_ soon."

Lyndis stumbled at, for some reason the words generating a very pleasant feeling. For a moment she didn't understand it. Then she realised what it was.

Pride.

They'd not been together for as long as one would think, but for some reason she was placing a lot of emphasis on the opinion of the young man she'd rescued. She shrugged it off. He was her friend. The only person, other than Florina, who knew her before all this happened. That was the only reason, wasn't it.

Looking up, she realised she'd fallen behind as the others seperated in the town to buy supplies before they left this unfriendly area. Mark was walking with Florina and Dorcas as Kent and Sain paused for her to catch up.

"Yes," she told herself, as Florina steadied him as he stumbled, his arm still troubling him. "That was why..."

_**Chapter 4 End**_

_Apologies for the long wait. My computer crashed on me and I had to rebuild from scratch. Got meself a brand new build that's supposed to last till late next year before any major upgrades._


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER FIVE**_

_**Rest and Respite**_

"We're almost there," Marcus declared, examining the slash on a piece of tree bark. "We should be seeing his house just before dark at our current pace."

Moving rapidly southward it took them only four days to cross the border into Khathelet. Two days out Rath had caught up with them, having resigned his commission to Araphen. While he remained tightlipped about his reasons it wasn't hard to guess his reasons considering his and Lyn's shared heritage. He'd been travelling with the young lordling Eliwood and his escort, now down to two knights. They were supposed to meet a companion with the Khathlet's borders and opted for travelling together. By the time they'd reached the border the younger knight Lowen had taken upon himself the job of camp cook. After sampling his preparation of a simple stew of rabbit and wild onions none bothered objecting.

Both Kent and Sain felt their bodies complaining however as Marcus took it upon himself to, as he put it, cure the lax they'd taken in their training. Despite continuing her studies under Mark, Lyndis found the Marquess's words hard to forget. His adoration of her mother, and utter hatred of her father were hard to forget and despite his obvious knowledge of the matter Marcus was not very forthcoming and she had been unable to force the issue. As if sensing her distress, Florina hovered close to her friend. While she was grateful for her support Lyn was never sure if she was glad or irritated by Serra's presence. While she could be useful, even sensitive at times, Serra had a habit of saying wrong thing at the worst time and as such she was always grateful whenever she was distracted by Erk.

"Lyn? LYNDIS!"

"What?" Lyn jumped as Mark snapped his fingers before her eyes. She gave him a glare at distracting her.

"Pay attention," he snapped back, pointing out to her the costs in both gold and supplies required to mount a sustained assault and then to defend against one. Sitting beside her, possibly due to her mercenary upbringing, Florina had an easier time grasping his lessons than she did. "You don't see me moping everytime you floor me do you?"

Lyndis smirked at the comment as she remembered that her turn was coming, her mood lightened at the thought of having him under her. As her thought came to an end she felt an unwelcome flush spreading across her face.

"Something wrong?" she heard Mark ask as she looked away trying to will the blood from her face. Fortunately she was saved as Rath cantered back in from their small clearing a pair of does slung over the back of his saddle. His face was ever serious, was marked by a determined frown.

"We need to move," he said bluntly, not even bothering to dismount. "There're patrols heading this way...and they have a fairly accurate description of a young woman in Sacaen garb and a pair of knights in a red and green armour."

"That's pretty indepth information," Marcus said. "How'd you come by it."

"The captain of the border guards is an...acquaintance of mine," Rath replied, glancing at Marcus in irritation. "They haven't yet learned of my leaving the Marquess's service."

"If we're being followed then it would be best if we went our seperate ways milord," Marcus said as Eliwood came up.

"I'm afraid I disagree Marcus," Eliwood replied. "The royal house of Pherae does not abandon it's comrades."

"I have to agree with Marcus, Eliwood." Mark said, earning a dark look for neglecting the honorific. "If you are caught aiding us, it could lead to civil war in Lycia."

"I'm well aware of the risk," the young lord replied. "However, this has gone form being a threat of rebellion to being an issue of succession. And I think..."

"I THINK that we should start moving and worry about this later," Rath put in. "Assuming we avoid the patrols tracking us."

XXXXXX

"How close are we, Marcus?" Mark asked, bringing his sweating mount alongside Marcus's larger warhorse.

"Not much farther," Marcus replied. "We're on his property now."

"How's Huey doing?" Mark heard Lyn ask her friend. Bred for flight, Pegasii weren't mean't to be riden hard on the ground. He didn't hear her reply but Lyn seemed fine with it. Eliwood rode close by with Wil, Dorcas ,Erk and Serra around them. Watching their rear, Rath, Lowen, Kent and Sain were farther back.

Suddenly they were out of the forest and into the open. The sky was afire as the sun was setting to the west. A large trimmed field of grass spread out ahead of them and neat little cottage was nestled in the middle. Moving his horse to canter Marcus turned his head to issue one warning.

"Whatever you do, don't step off the path," he said. "He's been grooming the grounds for the last ten years and he's quite frightening if it's been damaged."

The path, as Marcus called it, were what appeared to be shards of granite carved to fit neatly together in a gently winding path from the forest to the cottage proper. There were neat squares of various flowers placed at intervals in the sea of grass, and rows placed along the path. There was a sharp _**CLANG**_ as Kent whacked the back of Sain's armour as the green armoured knight attempted to remove a white rose, probably in another attempt to approach one of the girls.

Reaching the end of the path, they all realised the building was a quitelarger than it had first appeared, with a trio of wagons peeking around the right side and a sizeable stables along the left. The building itself appeared to be as big as a small inn and it seemed untoward that only one man would be living here.

"Ho, the house," Marcus called, leaping down from his horse, before a solid looking wooden door. "Merlinus, It's Marcus, open up."

"Marcus?"

The door opened slightly at first as a nervous looking man peered out. With a loud sigh of relief he then threw open the door and beckoned them inside. Leaving Wil and Dorcas to guide their horses to the stables. The inside was quite comfortable with a fire crackling in the hearth providing a welcomed warmth. Four plates were laid atop the large table, scraps of a previous meal still in them. Marcus picked a bone from one of the plates and sniffed at it.

"You have company," Marcus said, more a statement than a question.

Merlinus, a short and portly nervous looking man with thinning hair and a neatly trimmed moustache, started at the statement.

"Yes...yes," he answered, "But...but not who you were expecting."

He stepped back into the other room, where they could hear him conversing with a hidden companion. In the interim, Wil and Dorcas wandered in and settled tiredly into a pair of chairs. Shortly after Merlinus reappeared with his guests. The first was a young boy with the fair skin of a Northerner of Llia, his most striking features were his thick shock of white hair and red tinged eyes. Tucked into his short doublet was a small, rough looking, flute. His companion was young man...at least that's what they thought, clad in a long blue robe holding a book with the markings of Saint Elimine. Long golden hair and a face too pretty to be called handsome, they all relied on the fact that Sain hadn't thrown himself at the stranger that he had to be male...probably. The last however...

There was an audible indrawing of breathe from all the men as they took in Merlinus's last guest. The resemblance was strong enough to tell that she was related to the boy, but while the boy would pass for cute, the only word in the minds of the men was _beautiful_. Her white hair reached to the small of her back and her aqua coloured dress...though loose...clung to her enough to accentuate her curves. She hung back a bit keeping the two men between her and their group. Mark cocked his head to the side frowning, as his gaze flickered between her and Florina, then shook his head dismissing the similarities.

"Nils, Lucius, and Ninian," Merlinus said, pointing at each in turn. "I found them at the inn near the border...you know the one..."

"The Doe in Wine...yes, I know it." Marcus replied.

"The siblings are travelling with Lucius, who says he's meeting someone in Caelin. The lord there is hiring mercenaries so..." Merlinus moved back nervously at the muted grumblings. "Did I say something wrong?"

XXXXXX

"I see...," Merlinus murmured, sipping at a cup of cider. At the fireplace Nils and Ninian were tending to the fire where slices of venison from the does that Rath had caught earlier were roasting, spreading their delicious smell through the room. "It would explain the orders I've been getting..."

"Has there been anything else?" Marcus asked, taking a bite of bread. "Caelin went as far as to ask Araphen for assistance in capturing our companions."

"There's been a lot of messengers back an forth between Khathelet and Caelin," he replied. "I've also received orders for new armour from prince Erik."

"Laus as well...," Eliwood was silent for a moment. "Any activity from Ostia?"

"Just the usual rumours that they have their spies and agents in every kingdom," Merlinus replied. Accepting a platter of meat from Nils with a nod of thanks he continued. "Lord Uther has been conspicuously quiet over the issue of the Caelin succession."

"Ostia only involves itself if matters threaten the League itself," Eliwood said.

"I don't really see how this helps us," Sain confessed, giving Ninian a brilliant smile as she wandered past. "All it means is that Lundgren is gathering popular support while we're made out as traitors supporting a pretender."

"Bluntly put...but unfortunately accurate," Mark said. "However if we were to garner support of our own Ostia would..."

"No..." Lyndis stated.

"Lyn/Lady Lyndis?" Florina/Kent started at her blunt pronouncement. Sain was jerked from his flirting as Ninian, relieved, moved on.

All throughout the conversation she'd remained silent, shoving around the food on the plate Ninian had placed in front of her. The second Mark started talking she understood where he was going. She, too, had caught Eliwood's slip about Ostia and remembered the late night lessons on the various small kingdoms that made up the Lycian League.

"Maybe we better retire for the night," Marcus said diplomatically. The older knight glanced at Merlinus. "You have any hot water left out back?"

"Sorry, no." he replied. "I'll prepare some early tomorrow."

XXXXXX

_"...and that brings me to most prominent territory of Lycia," Mark continued, looking at Lyndis for her answer._

_"Ostia, right?"_

_"Correct, but next time with a bit for confidence," he replied. "Ostia is considered the voice of Lycia but rarely interferes in the affairs of individual kingdoms. Only once has Ostia taken arms against a fellow House..."_

_"I...missed that part," Lyn muttered colour suffusing her cheeks in embaressment._

_"Cornwell," Mark sighed, his eyes disapproving. "Cornwell's royal family had been exposed for corruption and a civil war had been nigh over the splitting of the province's ample resources. Ostia settled the matter by simply laying claim to the territory, backed by support from Pherae."_

_"What happened to the ruling family?"_

_"Who knows," Mark shrugged. "Between the rumours of exile to imprisonment to outright execution there's no way to know for sure."_

_"You say they claimed Cornwell with support from Pherae," Lyn said, after a moment's silence. "What about the other territories."_

_"Several, like Laus, approved the decision, if just to ensure a rival didn't get the land," Mark replied. "Others like Araphen and Caelin outright opposed the seizure as Ostian heavy handedness. Relations are still tense between them as..."_

XXXXXX

Mark groaned as awoke, his hand going automatically to his shoulder where his wound used to be. Serra'd warned him to sleep on his back until the knitted bones took, but it was hard to break the habits of a lifetime. Massaging the shoulder he realised how much he'd missed a worry free night's sleep. His mind was clearer than it'd been in days, and with a clear mind came realisation.

He now remembered Lyn's lessons on Lycian politics and why she reacted so strongly against Ostian intervention. She'd refused to discuss it and sequestered herself in the room Merlinus supplied which she shared with Florina and Serra. He'd been assigned a room with Sain and Erk. Speaking of which...

Glancing over the room, he saw Erk still contentedly dead to the world, his face still set in it's preset frown. Of Sain, however there was no sign. Grunting, Mark heaved himself out of bed reaching for his pack, then paused. At the foot of his bed was one of his white shirts and a pair of brown trousers. Picking up the shirt he held the linen to his nose.

Freshly washed...and with perfumed soap, no less. Quickly slipping on the fresh clothes, he quickly exited the room. In the kitchen he found a platter of bread and cheese, and a jug of apple cider. Though the bread wasn't fresh, smearing it with the cheese made it appetising enough and with a large blue cup of cider it made for an enjoyable enough breakfast. Enjoying, for once, the feeling of a full and rested body he stepped out into the morning air...and immediately flattened himself against the door as Nils flew past him with Serra close behind, a scissors and brush in her hands.

"A boy should not have hair like a girl," she declared, as Nils positioned the table between himself and the object of his terror. "It gives people the wrong idea."

"Then give Lucius one," Nils snapped back, circling round the table.

Serra stopped. "Lucius is a guy?"

At Serra's pause, Nils hurled himself towards the staris sprinting up two at a time as Serra tried to play catch up. Shaking my head I closed the door, stepping into the sunlight. I could feel my back crack as I stretched. I returned Wil's wave from where he sat watching Dorcas and Lowen, clad in simple leather livery, tend to the horses. Out on the grass, among the hedges, he could see Merlinus, Marcus and Eliwood. Merlinus was wiedling a bronze sickle with practised ease as he removed jutting branches and errant blooms.

He was too far away from them to hear their discussion, but from Marcus's booming laughter it didn't feel like anything to worry about. Not feeling the urge to navigate the stones to where the three men stood he instead trotted over to where Wil sat.

"Morning chief," the young archer greeted him.

"Wil," I nodded in greeting. Indicating to his shoulder I asked. "How's the arm?"

"Better," he replied, clenching a fist. "Hurts a bit when I try to use my bow, but nothing I can't manage."

"Good," I said, we were too small in number to have a lingering injury holding one of us back. "Where is everyone?"

"Hmmm..."Wil raised a hand ticking off fingers. "Rath went hunting. Lyn sent Kent with him to watch his back. Haven't seen Erk or Lucius for the morning..they're probably sleeping. The ladies are out back washing. Serra's..."

"Yeah, I've seen Serra," Smirking to myself. Wil was likely intimidated by the cleric. Or smitten. But I could feel a niggling in the back of my head. Something that Wil hadn't said. My eyes widened as it hit me.

"Where's Sain?"

A chorus of angry feminine cries gave me my answer. Sain came skidding around the far end of the house, sprinting for the entrance. Lyn appeared behind him, wrapped in a towel, hurling a wash bucket with unerring accuracy to bounce off the young knight's head with a hollow _clonk_. Applause at the expert throw ringed the air as Sain tumbled to the side falling onto the grass.

"MY LAWN!" Merlinus wailed as Sain pushed himself back to his feet, staggering, as Lyn stomped back to the bathing area.

"Was it worth it?" I asked, amused.

A large grin split his face as he nodded.

XXXXXX

Lyn huffed to herself as she made her way back to the screen of cloth she and Florina had erected to block off the bathing area.

"Did you get him?" Florina asked, emptying a bucket of heated water into one of the three large tubs the men had pulled out under Merlinus's instructions.

"He'll think twice before coming back here again," Lyn replied. Then after a thought. "Maybe we better be quick...just in case."

Florina nodded, slipping off her towel before stepping into the tub. "You've gotten bigger," Lyn teased as she sank into her own tub.

Florina gasped, crossing her arms over her chest in embaressment as Lyn laughed. "But you'd better take care," she continued. "Too much sun and you're skin'll turn dark like mine."

Florina bit back her reply as Ninian pushed her way past the screen. She smiled, shyly, before slipping off her green robe and shaking out her white hair.

"Wow..." Lyn breathed as she stared at the new girl.

"Your skin is beautiful Ninian," Florina said, awed, as Ninian flushed in embaressment.

"Thank you," the white haired girl murmured.

"You must live in shade," Lyn observed as she leaned in close.

"Not really," Ninian blushed. "My family has always had pale skin."

"I envy you," Lyn replied, holding up a golden arm.

"You're beautiful on your own, Miss Lyndis," Ninian said. "Your companions seem to agree."

Lyndis gave an unladylike snort as she replied. "Sain will go after anything with a pair of tits."

Both Florina and Ninian blushed at Lyndis's language, "But what about...Kent?" Florina ventured timidly.

"Kent?" Lyn looked thoughtful, "He is cute, but I don't know. What about you, Flor? Any guy waiting for you back in Llia?"

Florina stuttered, her expression one of horror, while Lyndis grinned wickedly. They both turned to look a Ninian as the other girl failed to stifle a light giggle. Her eyes widened at their stares.

"Sorry," she murmured.

Florina and Lyn looked back at each other and burst into peals of laughter.

XXXXXX

"Stay," Mark commanded as more noise emanated from the back of the house. Sain cast a stricken look at the door where Dorcas stood guard. The girls had gotten even louder since Serra had joined them, to Nils's relief.

On the fire a trio of wild piglets roasted, the fruits of Rath's hunt. With a grunt of satisfaction Merlinus appeared in the cellar door carrying a large piece of parchment. This he spread across the table with the men sat.

"This is where we are," he pointed at a corner of wood on the parchment, a map of the Lycian League territories. "From here the easiest route to Caelin castle would be through the southern trade route along the main road."

"Then that would be where we won't go," Mark said, looking at the map closely. "What about here?"

"That's an old smuggler's road," Merlinus replied, glancing down at where Mark pointed. "The water is fast flowing and the bridge was destroyed years ago when General Eagler was put in charge of the farmlands."

"Eagler," Mark raised an eyebrow. "I thought he'd been released from duty. He must be in his fifties by now."

"He was retained in an advisory capacity," Sain said. Ignoring the looks he was receiving he continued. "He's also in charge of training Caelin's cavalry elite. Strict but fair, he's still worth twenty opposing lancers."

"Sounds like you know him well," Marcus observed.

"He should, Eagler was the one who trained us," Kent put forward, leaning back in his chair. "After the Marquess took ill, he retreated back to his estates when Lundgren took over."

"Well that's promising," Mark mused. "Any chance of getting his support against Lundgren."

"Not if he believes that the orders are coming from the Marquess. He's nothing if loyal," Sain replied.

"All of this pointless," Merlinus said, looking up from where he'd been caring for the roasting pigs. "There's no bridge, and at this time of year the water is too fast to even think about fording.

"You let me worry about that," Mark replied, as Merlinus pronounced the meat done.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Erk muttered.

XXXXXX

It was late.

Lyndis, clad in a long linen dress borrowed from Ninian, sat outside enjoying the cool night air and the feeling of a full belly. The men were taking turns at the tubs and Serra had cornered Ninian, very interested in the reticent girl's hair. A soft rustling from the stables drew her attention as she saw Florina hovering near the entrance. She raised her hand at her friend but failed at getting her attention. Her attention was focused inwards and Lyn could see her lips moving as if talking. She frowned and rose, then saw Florina's companion.

Mark had a hand placed on the smaller girl's shoulder and was speaking intently to her. The simple fact that Florina was allowing a man to touch her, let alone be in such proximity shocked Lyn.

And made her slightly uneasy for some reason.

She shrugged back that feeling and started towards them. Then hesitated. Their actions seemed awfuly intense and they mightn't like being disturbed.

Patting her cheeks she berated herself for being so paranoid. She'd just walk past them and go see to her horse's feeding. It was only right that she attended to Arondel personally. If it was something personal she'd just excuse herself and get it done as quickly as possible. She nodded to herself, pleased with her course of action.

"Pardons milady."

Lyndis whirled, startled out of her reverie. "Yes Lowen?"

The light haired knight bowed. "My Lord Eliwood would like a few words with you before you retire."

Lyndis took one last look at the pair in the stable entrance before turning back to Lowen, motioning him to lead the way. As she passed back through the door Kent, finished with his bath and settling down to eat looked up startled. As they started to make their way up the stairs she heard the grating up his chair as he followed them up.

"What're you doing?" she sighed, turning to the red haired young man.

"Following you milady," he replied his cheeks reddening slightly to match his hair.

Lyndis looked at Lowen who was waiting for her patiently. "I doubt anyone's going to try and kill me between here and Eliwood's room."

"It's...not a matter of that," Kent said. "It's a matter of propriety."

If took considerable willpower not to laugh. They had people searching for them, to kill them, and Kent was worrying about whether a young lord would try and seduce her. She looked hard at the young man.

"I'm guessing it won't do me any good to tell you to wait down here?"

"Not in this matter, lady," he replied shaking his head.

Sighing, Lyndis simply walked past Lowen, missing the look that passed between the two knights as she knocked at the door of Eliwood's room. Marcus peered out, frowning a bit as he saw Kent, opening the door to permit them entry.

"I'm honoured that you could join me, Lady Lyndis," Eliwood said, rising from a cushioned chair. Like everyone else, he'd forsaken his armour for a simple tunic and a pair of leather breeches. Nodding at him, Lyndis sat on one of the beds, smoothing the dress down her legs. Kent stood, his leg almost fully recovered, off to her side.

"I'll get straight to the point," Eliwood said, settling back down. "I won't be accompanying you into Caelin."

"What?" Kent blurted out. "But your presence alone could give legitimacy to Lady Lyndis's claim."

"Or it could lead to a civil war that would tear Lycia apart," Eliwood retorted. "Lundgren is no fool and if he's been courting Araphen and Laus, you can be sure he has agents in the others."

"If Pherae is seen to support a claimant, Lundgren can claim aggression," Marcus explained. "With recent Bern incursons we can't afford infighting in the League."

"So your saying we're on our own then?" Lyndis said quietly.

"I cannot support you...officially," Eliwood said. "That being said I can ensure that Lundgren receives no support either."

"You can do that?" Kent asked.

"I can call for a council to discuss the Caelin situation. While all the House leaders are in Ostia none will be able to send support to Lundgren," he explained. "With my father missing, I can use my..._inexperience_...to delay proceedings. It should give you the time you need."

Lyn's feral grin matched the the conspirational wink Eliwood gave her.

"Don't be too confident," Marcus warned. "Though he might not be able to get outside help, I studied alongside Lundgren in Llia. He is more than capable with spear and axe."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lyndis replied. "When will you be leaving?"

"As soon as the moon is high. If we ride hard, we can reach the Pheraen border just after sunup." Eliwood rose, started towards her then paused, his eyes moving to Kent. Then he bowed. "I hope that the next time we meet it'll be in a more pleasant setting."

Lyndis nodded, unsure of how to respond to the young lord's words. She simply rose and bowed in response, Kent following her lead, before exiting the room.

"So this is where you were."

Mark stood at the top step, eyes flickering between them and Eliwood's door. "I'd been looking for you."

"Kent...why don't you go and get something to eat," Lyndis said, looking at Mark. Feeling his reluctance, she turned to him. "I was sharing a room with Mark before we even met you. I'll be fine."

Mark raised an eyebrow, but kept silent as Kent elbowed his way past him. Gesturing to him, she opened the door to the room she shared with Florina. Closing the door behind her she turned to face her friend. She opened her mouth then shut it as she realised what she was about to say wasn't what she wanted to.

"What is it?" he asked, knives clinking as he sat down on one of the beds.

Swiftly she told him about what Eliwood had told her.

"Damn it," he swore softly. "I should've realised that."

"It's not all bad," she said. "If he can get the other Houses to stay out of the Caelin..."

"It cuts both ways Lyn," Mark said. "Lundgren has access to the Caelin treasury. And there're more than enough mercenaries to be bought that won't give a second thought to who's in the right."

"I'd already thought about that."

"And?"

"I want to go to General Eagler's castle."

Mark stared at her for a moment before laying back on the bed. "Convince me."

"From what I've gleaned from Kent and Sain, he's been the one training those knights aspiring to be paladins for almost twenty years," Lyndis said. "His loyalty to Caelin and it's people is second to none. If there was anyone I could trust to stand against Lundgren, it would be him."

"Or," Mark held up a finger. "He would rather see Caelin ruled by one of known Lycian lineage, rather than a half-breed from the plains.

Lyndis's face darkened with rage as she swung a fist. Before her arm even completed it's arc she realised her error. Mark however never even tried to dodge and was knocked back by the blow, even though she'd managed to pull it a bit. Horrified, her hands went to his face as he sat back up.

"I'm sorry," she said, her hands caressing his face. "Sorry."

"No, I deserved that," he replied, wincing as her fingers passed over the bruise below his eye. "But you needed to know what you might be getting into if you put your faith in someone we don't know."

"I trusted you, didn't I?" she said.

He paused at that. "Point taken..."

"His support could give us the edge we need," Lyndis explained. "Otherwise Lundgren could have even the farmers out looking for us. I couldn't ask Kent and Sain to raise their weapons to the people they're supposed to protect."

_"You wouldn't even need to ask...," _Mark thought to himself. Then loudly, "Will you at least allow me to meet with him first. To make sure he's not another Araphen."

Lyndis winced at that, inclining her head in a slight nod. The motion brought them back face to face as they both suddenly became aware of their proximity, and the fact that Lyn still had her hand resting on his face. She started to pull her hand back when Mark took hold of her wrist, holding it in place, as their faces moved closer.

"And that's how I defeated those five bandits on my own," Serra boasted, following Florina into the room. "Erk did help a bit but...oh Lyn. We were wondering where you were."

"Are you okay Lyn?" Florina asked, a look of concern on her face. "Your face is all flushed."

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice sounding a trifle high to her ears. Hopefully they wouldn't notice. "The wine had me feeling a bit warm, so I thought I'd turn in early."

"Well, sleeping with an open window will make you ill," Serra said, moving over to the opening. Lyndis held her breathe as Serra glanced outside, before shutting the frame.

XXXXXX

Mark winced as he held himself as close as he could to the wall. Moving slowly he inched himself over to the stables, ignoring the curious looks from the animals within. He'd wait a few minutes then walk in. To all concerned, he'd been simply checking on the horses. But a part of him was still up in that room.

_She's not her mother you realise. The more you keep thinking that she is, the more it'll eat you up inside._

He had no problem identifying with Lyn as an individual. But he'd been looking at her as a woman. A very attractive and desireable woman.

And that could be a problem...

XXXXXX

_**Castle Caelin**_

_"I told you that Bool would not be up to the task."_

_"Be silent," Lundgren glowered at the cloaked young man beside him. Seated on the throne he stared at the kneeling knight, only recently returned from the debacle at Araphen. "What about you, Ephidel? You told me your poison would have the old fool dead in a week. It's been nearly a month."_

_"He clings to the news of his granddaughter," Ephidel replied. "This gives him hope. If you wish I could up the dosage. But that would make it possible to detect."_

_"Feh, fine then." Lundgren spat. "Bool, I have a task for you. One that even you should find impossible to fail."_

_**Chapter Five End**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER SIX**_

_**Home stretch**_

High above them Huey wheeled around, gliding on his wings as Florina guided him down to the small clearing they'd stopped at.

At Mark's questioning look, she merely shook her head. He swore.

"Well I wasn't expecting you too...but you never know," was all he said. "Wil, you find anything?"

"Nothing," he said, face dirty and sweat stained, as he gratefully accepted a waterskin from Ninian. "It would help if we knew what we were looking for."

It had been a tense morning. After discovering Eliwood's departure there'd been some debate on whether or not to believe the young lord's intentions. Merlinus had tactfully pointed out that Eliwood's interests were for Pherae, and Pherae's interests lay in a united and peaceful Lycia. Especially with rumours of Bernese activities. The mutterings had quieted, but then resumed in earnest after his insistence that they head along the rapids.

"But there's no way across," Erk argued, as he remained seated atop his small pony.

"There would be one if you'd bothered to at least be competent at frost magic," Mark replied snidely, looking down at the mage, his own mount, Artax, several hands larger.

"Well sorry," Erk snapped back. "I never thought of freezing rivers while picking my focus. And at least I didn't have my own personal desk at the back of the class."

"Least I didn't miss an exam after studying for it for three days straight." Mark smirked down at the dark haired mage. "Mama's boy."

Erk's eyes narrowed at that. "That was a low blow."

"And the desk crack wasn't?" Mark snapped back.

"YOU INITIALLED THE DAMN THING!"

"Beside the point," Mark sniffed, looking up as Rath and Lyn appeared from within the trees. "And keep your voice down."

Leaving Erk muttering to himself Mark angled Artax, hesitating slightly, towards where the pair stood. Since last night he was unsure on how to act around Lyndis. If Serra hadn't shown up when she did...

He shook his head and kept his eyes on Rath as Huey, at Florina's urging took up a position next to Lyndis's mount. "Anything?"

"I think we found what you're looking for," he said. "It's about two miles to the west...maybe a bit more."

"Good, get something to drink." Mark said. He nodded over to a large oak where Kent and Sain guarded the wagon Merlinus had loaned them. "We'll get everyone moving as soon as you're ready."

Nodding Rath swung down from his pony, leading it over to where Kent and Sain sat in the shade, accepting a waterskin from Ninian. An uncomfortable silence grew as Lyndis stayed close.

"Anything happen while we were gone?" she asked after a moment, nodding toward where the others sat.

"Sain's been behaving himself, surprisingly," Mark smirked. "I think he's excited at the thought of seeing his old trainer. Kent too probably."

Lyndis smiled at the remark, "It would be a shame if anything about his personality was to come to light, wouldn't it."

"That would be too cruel, even for you," Mark replied. "Serra on the other hand..."

"Serra on the other hand what?"

Mark jumped, cursing himself for not paying attention, swinging on the young priestess, "Didn't I have you on watch with Dorcas?"

"Wil was sweet enough to relieve me early," Serra replied. I cocked an eyebrow at that, wondering what she'd managed that...or what Dorcas had promised Wil to accomplish that. Behind them Nils clambered from the wagon. Serra gave a squeal of joy rushing over and grabbing the boy into a smothering hug as his arms flailed wildly.

"Serra certainly loves kids," Mark observed as Nils managed to get free, cape flowing behind him, as fled from a determined Serra who somehow managed to keep up despite her robes. A loud cough got his attention as he turned to find Rath back mounted on his pony.

"We're ready to head out," he said, nodding behind himself as Wil and Dorcas were getting the wagon hitched.

"Fine," Mark replied, as Nils dove headfirst into the relative safety of the wagon. "You and Lyn take point, since you know where we're going."

XXXXXX

The suspected crossing was still a mile distant when Rath raised his hand calling for a stop.

"We go on foot from here. And no armour," he said, looking pointedly at Kent and Sain.

"Go where?" Sain asked. "There's nothing but trees and water for miles around."

"Listen," Lyndis said.

"What?" Sain said. "I don't hear anything.

The others echoed his sentiment.

"Exactly," Rath said, voice low. "No insects. No birds. No nothing. There's only one thing that can drive off everything from an area."

"You heard what he said," Mark grunted. He pointed at Kent and Sain. "You two stay with the wagon. Nils and Ninian are staying as well. The rest of you, leather and the lightest weapons you can use."

Mark, Rath and Wil moved ahead while the rest got ready. There were plenty of light weapons, unfortunately we had no leather that could fit Florina. Instead she borrowed one of Ninian's dancing outfits, slicing along the length of the material to give her legs room to move. The exposure and flimsiness of the material had her blushing scarlet as she hung even closer to Lyndis trying to keep away from the eyes of Dorcas and Lucius.

Keeping low Lyndis took point as she followed the barely visible path Rath had left for her to track. Behind her she could hear the light crunching of dry leaves and the occasional hissing curse as barbed branches caught cloth or was able to keep up with her initial pace, however she quickly slowed as the others lagged behind.

Florina struggled gamely, but her training as a Pegasus Knight did not involve much squatting and sneaking. Erk swore repeatedly as his loose cloak was caught and torn and he resorted to crawling to ease the pain in his legs. Serra's voice was low, but there was a constant stream of mutterings that would've raised eyebrows from anyone unfamiliar with the priestess. As it was, Lucius's ears were a very noticeable pink.

Her own calves and thighs began to ache and complain at the low position she kept and the constant wide steps she took to avoid leaf patches or low hanging branches. Abruptly she stopped, raising an arm. Over the sound of the water rushing over the rocks came the unmistakeable sound of raised voices and laughter. Through the foliage she could make out three men sitting around a small smokeless fire. Her eyes narrowed as she strained her ears, trying to hear what they were saying. Frustrated, she signaled for the others to wait as she sank onto her stomach crawling slowly towards where the men sat.

"...two hundred gold."

"That's not too bad. Another hundred and I can finally pay off my bounty. Walk through town a free man."

The other two found this uproariously funny as they bellowed with laughter. Scooting closer Lyndis struggled to get a closer look at their camp, finding her view blocked by a mass of shrubbery. Frustrated, she began to move closer.

A hand swung across her face over her mouth. Eyes wide, she began to struggle as she felt a brush of warm air at the side of her head.

"It's Rath."

Once she stopped struggling, he removed his hand. "Be careful, they've got several well hidden bear traps scattered around the camp."

"Where're Wil and Mark?"

"More to the south," he replied. Then a disapproving tone entered his voice. "The others said you were scouting ahead...alone."

She could feel her cheeks burning at the rebuke, but refused to give him the pleasure of a response. Following his path, she found the rest of her companions along the river edge, half a mile from where Rath had found her. The river was wide at this point, but steadily narrowed the farther upstream it went. The water foamed white as the liquid smashed into resilient rocky protrusions. She glanced around.

"Where's Florina?" Her eyes narrowed. "And Mark..."

"They're scouting the other side," Wil said, munching on an apple. Misunderstanding lyn's expression he continued. "It was surprising really. I thought she'd jump out of her skin...

"How far is it?" she asked turning to Rath, ignoring Wil as he continued.

"At least a quarter mile," Rath replied, pointing. "The point those four are camped is the narrowest point along the entire line."

_Four?_

"You said there were four..." Lyndis said. "But I only counted three."

"There's one more in a leaf covered tent," Rath said. "Whoever these guys are, they aren't amatuers...they're back."

Glancing around, they could see Huey skimming over the water before he landing with a trot a few feet away.

"You okay?" Florina asked, concern etched into her voice.

"Just...one second," they heard Mark reply as his arms were latched firmly around Florina's waist. For a second Lyn felt shock at Florina's actions, followed by an unaccustomed anger at Mark's apparent forwardness. Then she noticed something odd that filtered it's way into her brain.

His arms were trembling.

"Oh this is too good," Erk hooted. "Wait till Lim hears about this."

"Knock it off Erk," Lyn said, covering a small smile with her hand. Mark slowly disentangled his arms around Florina's slim waist and dropped unsteadily to the ground. "You okay?"

"It's...not something I'd...want to do...on a regular basis...," he gasped out, massaging his legs. "There don't appear to be anymore on the other side. So that's one less thing to worry about."

"So what's the plan?" Wil asked.

"Normally I'd say we wait till dark...," Mark replied looking up at the sky. "But we don't know what they use, so we'll just use our numerical advantage."

"So...basically you're saying a frontal charge," Rath said.

"No need for finesse here," Mark shrugged, grinning. "Just make sure to not go overboard and take at least one alive."

The answering grins were almost feral in their intensity.

XXXXXX

"Well that was boring," Rath muttered, absently cleaning his saber on the cloak of a now dead smuggler. Sain tossed the cold eyed man a scowl as he and Kent struggled under the weight of the latest corpse, tossing it into a shallow pit.

Already furious at missing out on the fight they were even less thrilled at being delegated to corpse removal. But, Lyn pointed out, they had been safe and comfortable while the rest of them had been busy so it was only fair that they disposed of the bodies. Off to the side their leaders were talking to a survivor that, and this surprised the two knights, Lucius had taken alive.

"You see my friend over there," Mark said pointing at Lyn, who was busy scowling at the small man they'd taken alive. "She lost her friends and family to bandits just like yourself. The Taliver to be exact."

"We're not like the Taliver," the man whimpered, eyeing the way Lyn caressed her blade. "Those barbarians kill women and children."

"I'd question what you think the real value is in women...but I think she'd kill you before you had a chance to answer," Mark stated. "So I'll tell you what. We're in a hurry. You show us how you get across the river, and I'll let you go."

"What's to stop her from killing me after I do what you ask," the bandit challenged.

"Nothing, but considering what Sacaens do to thieves I'd be less worried about dying...and more about living," Mark observed as the bandit blanched at the last statement. "However...just to speed things along, I swear on my honor as a vassal of Etruria that I won't let any harm come to you."

The bandit's eyes narrowed, his gaze becoming calculating as he ran through Mark's statement. Another glance at Lyndis decided him. With a resigned sigh he nodded, holding out his hands. "Looks like I don't have a choice. And the name's Carjiga. You might as well use it."

Cutting through the leather strips binding his wrists, Mark stepped back as the bandit massaged feeling back into his hands. "This way," he said, angling towards the northern end of the small camp. Stopping at a thick oak he swept aside the thick shrubbery surrounding the trunk revealing a crank.

"Ingenius," Mark remarked as the smaller man began turning the wheel with some effort. From beneath the grass and bushes two thick lines of rope grew taught, rising into the air, pulling up with it a wooden bridge five feet across. Mark tentatively applied pressure with a foot, noting the thickness of the boards and the condition of the ropes. "This was well built. I'd like to meet the man who designed it."

The statement hung in the air for an uncomfortable moment.

"Wait, this isn't wide enough for wagons," Mark muttered, turning back to Carjiga. "Is there another mechanism?"

"No,we have the wagons exchange loads. Saves on taxes if they don't know your bringing in anything new." The bandit explained.

"What do you think?" Mark asked, turning to Lyndis.

"It'll take some time," she said doubtfully. "And we won't be able to carry everything. But I'm worried about how Merlinus would take losing one of his wagons..."

"We don't have much in the way of choice as things stand."

The both looked up as Carjiga cleared his throat. "Are we good now?"

The pair glanced at each other. "I still say it's a bad idea, letting one go." Lyndis growled.

"I gave him my word," Mark replied, walking over to the other man. "You won't be followed. Though I can't promise if we meet again."

"Oh you don't need to worry about that," Carjiga said.

"You're right," Mark said, as the other man started to walk off. "I don't."

The choice of words were odd enough to make the bandit pause. But before he could realise why the thrown dagger slammed into his head with enough force to knock him forward, spearing through his brain killing him before he landed face down in the dirt. Stepping over the splayed limbs Mark yanked his weapon free, wiping the blade with a handful of grass before returning it to his belt.

"Are you sure about this?" Mark asked as Lyndis walked over to the body.

With the tip of her sword, Lyn sliced away the thin material of dead man's shirt at the left shoulder exposing a small wyvern tattoo. Her eyes were hard, but her voice shook. "I am now..."

"Lyn...," Mark reached for her, then stopped as she turned away.

"I'm going to let the others know we're ready," she said, striding off.

Mark kept his expression neutral as she disappeared into the brush glancing down at the body before. "You got lucky," he muttered, even though Carjiga could no longer hear him.

XXXXXX

"Just take it slow buddy," Sain called.

"Easy for him to say," Kent gritted, keeping a tight grip on the rope with one hand while keeping a comforting hand on Argon. The stallion snorted, clearly unhappy, moving forward step by trembling step.

Mark wached his progress in a detached manner, occupied as he was with the burial of at least a dozen swords and several complete sets of armour. To allow them the best speed they were down to only one spare weapon and the armour on their backs. They'd managed to keep most of the food and their gold though, and there were a few small villages they could purchase spares if needed.

Patting down the last of the dirt he he tossed several handful of leaves over the spot, before moving over drawing one of his daggers and slashing at the large roots of a nearby oak. Stretching to work the soreness out of his back he watched as Rath rode his pony across the wooden bridge with an air of absolute indifference. it was quite a contrast to the larger horses of the midlands, but possibly due to the trust bred into the Sacaen ponies for their riders.

Across the water Lyndis glanced around with a look of pensive interest.

She was finally in Caelin. The land of her mother...of her mother's family.

She expected to feel some connection to this place, like the heros in the stories the elders often spoke of...

Yet she felt nothing. Caelin felt no different from the rest of Lycia.

Disappointed, she returned her attention to the swaying bridge as first Mark, then Dorcas completed crossing. Just above tree level Florina swooped down on the opposite shore releasing the crank and lowering the bridge back into the water.

"Ah sweet Caelin," Sain declared dramatically, throwing himself onto the turf. "How I've missed thee."

His antics drew giggles from both Serra and Ninian while Nils rolled his eyes.

"From here, we're two days march from Castle Caelin," Kent said, throwing Sain a glare. "That of course is following the roads. But they're sure to be guarded."

"Even if we cut through the trees we should make it to Commander Eagler's estate well before nightfall," Sain said from the ground. "Blocked roads'll be a thing of the past once the Commander hears about Lundgren."

"You're assuming that this commander of yours is already unaware of it."

Lyn had never thought Sain capable of such rapid movement, but in the time it took her to look to the speaker Sain already had his sword at his throat.

"There is no way the commander would willingly betray Caelin," Sain's voice was soft, almost conversational.

"And unwillingly?" Rath asked. "A man as loyal as he should be at his lord's side shouldn't he?"

"Sain, stand down," Kent called. "We already might be fighting those that were once our friends. We don't need to be fighting each other as well."

"But..."

"Let it be Sain," Mark said tiredly. "We need to get moving. We've gained some time, let's not waste it." Reluctantly Sain lowered his sword, sparing the Sacaen one last furious glance before sheathing the blade.

"He is right though," Mark said, appearing next to her as she swung herself onto Arondel's saddle. "Eagler being this far from the capital isn't necessarily a good thing."

"Or it could mean that Lundgren didn't trust him to remain in the castle," Lyndis replied looking down at him. "We can't fight an army with what we have. Having Eagler on our side could make it so that we don't have to."

Mark nodded as she moved off, his expression thoughtful as he moved over to his own horse. Dorcas and Wil moved onto either side of him as he awkwardly mouted up.

"Anything wrong boss?" Dorcas asked.

"Nothing yet, but something's been bugging me," Mark replied. "I just can't...ugh. Keeps wriggling around in there and I can't get a handle on it.

"Come what may, Lyndis's Legion'll be more than a match for it." Wil boasted.

Mark's eye twitched at the name.

XXXXXX

"This is..."

The smoke had been a dead giveaway. But as they got closer came the sickly sweet smell of roasting flesh. It was barely even a village. Only six wooden cottages built before a long communal hall.

All now smoldering wreckages

Approaching cautiously through a field of ripe wheat they fanned out in a long line, eyes open for movement. Satisfied that whoever had hit the area was no longer there they spread throughout the houses looking for something, anything that would tell what had happened.

Nils and Ninian smelt it first as the wind changed.

The sickly sweet smell of burning flesh.

What they found turned even the hardy Dorcas green, while Serra turned away as her stomach emptied it's contents onto the charred ground, before retreating. Ninian had long since fled back to the horses while Serra, still shaking, guided Nils away from the sight.

"Unforgiveable," Kent rasped, his face dripping from the heat and smell.

Getting as far away as they could, the rapid movement proved the final straw for Mark's stomach as he vomited violently. "Thanks." He gasped out, accepting a waterskin from Florina, rinsing out his mouth.

"The fire's pretty burn't out," Rath said. "Whoever did this left a long time ago."

"Why?" Sain slammed a gauntleted fist through the splintered wood. "Why hasn't anyone come to check up on this?"

Kent's eyes narrowed as he cocked his head to the left. "Why don't we ask them ourselves."

They felt the arrival, before they heard or saw them, the ground shaking with the pounding of hooves and armoured feet.. Not enough time to seek cover, but a quick whistle from Mark had Wil and Erk slip behind cover, dragging Rath along with them. Unconsciously the rest stepped several feet forward presenting a small semi-circle with Nils, Ninian, Lucius and Serra behind them.

"Well that's not good," Mark muttered, trying to get a count of what was coming at them. "Kent. Sain."

Both knights nodded, putting themselves between Lyndis and the approaching group. Her eyes lit up in irritation at the move, but she stood her ground.

"Twenty...twenty-five...twenty-seven...that's a bit much," Mark muttered as the force began to spread out in an answering half circle. He counted ten heavy knights, spears pointed unerringly in their direction, and seventeen mounted knights, all wearing Caelin colours. One of the mounted knights, his armour more elaborate than the rest moved forward. Kent and Sain tensed before him.

"Kent. Sain. Are you going to stand against me?" The voice was muffled but both men started, recognition clear on their faces.

"Lord Eaglerl!" Both snapped to attention and saluted as the one who spoke lifted clear his helmet. The face was heavily lined and the hair white with sprinkles of dark, nonetheless the man radiated considerable power and control. For a moment Mark was reminded of Marcus but for the thick moustache above his mouth.

"What do you mean Commander?" Sain asked, moving closer. "We were heading towards to your estate to..."

He was brought up short as Eagler, and it could only be him, whipped his sword at the green garbed knight causing him to fall back as he scrambled to avoid it.

"Running off to bring some young pretender," he said. "I taught you both better than that."

"We didn't run off," Sain protested, staggering to his feet. "We were sent by the Marquess himself."

"The Marquess wanted nothing to do with his daughter for nigh on twenty years," Eagler replied. "Why would he suddenly send for a granddaughter he'd never met?"

"You speak the truth, commander." There was visible tensing at the sudden approach of Eagler's newest ally. Bool strode to stand just behind Eagler's horse, not seeing a brief look of distaste that flickered across Eagler's face.

"You've got some balls showing your face here so soon bastard," Sain snarled, then a cruel smile flickered across his face. "I'm surprised Lundgren let you off the leash so soon after what happened at Araphen."

A frown crossed the heavy knights face, "A misunderstanding as you see that the Marquess Araphen saw fit to release me. He wishes Lord Lundgren good fortune in defending Caelin while the Marquess is indisposed."

"You son of a bitch!" Kent's face was white with rage as he hefted his sword, advancing on Bool. The sudden movement provoked a response from the forces arrayed behind him as swords and spears were quickly brought to the ready, giving Kent cause for pause. "Commander, you can't believe anything Bool tells you. He..."

"Kent, back off," Mark held an arm in front of the impassioned knight before he provoked a response. There was not enough cover and considering the numbers against them he'd rather avoid a fight. "Sir, our Lady Lyndis's identity has been agreed upon by more than a few that knew her mother."

"Oh I see the resemblance," Eagler said, giving Mark pause. "In more ways that one. I wonder how it is that she shows up as our lord is ailing. Might be that she's more like he mother than..."

"That's enough Eagler..."

Clearly startled Eagler reined his horse around as his force split down the middle, giving way to whoever had spoken. Despite wearing the crest of General, he moved smoothly and with ease despite the weight of the armour and heavy weapons. Around him were seven young women...girls even...and a pair of mounted knights both garbed in light blue armour. All present immediately snapped to attention, even Bool, with the exception of Eagler.

"Who's that?" Lyn whispered to a pale faced Kent.

"Wallace, what are you doing here?" Eagler asked, irritation evident in his voice. "And who are those girls?"

"Don't know," he replied. "Found 'em when I came across a group of slavers. Found these two here with them as well. Figured them for a couple of your boys since they can't fight worth a damn if they're not on a horse."

Several of the knights on foot chuckled at the comment.

"Falstad," Sain called, the sight of the newcomers shaking him out of his daze. "Lillia. You're alive?"

"Of course we are you idiot, did you think otherwise?" Removing her helmet, the one Sain called Lillia shook her short dark hair, framing a dark heart shaped face.

"By the time we got to the oasis you had already left," Falstad finished as he removed his own. Even at a distance the resemblance was striking.

"Twins?" Serra whispered, to Sain's nod in response.

"We had...something come up." Kent replied.

"Falstad. Lillia. Present yourselves." Eagler ordered. As the pair trotted their stallions over, the one called Wallace stomped his way over in their direction as the women scattered to the houses. Mark couldn't help be impressed by the man's presence. Though only of average height he moved as if the armour encasing him weighed not a whit, and hefted an axe that appeared to be twice the size of the one Dorcas wielded as if it were a twig.

"Falstad already told me who you went to the plains looking for," Wallace said, the wailing of the women as the women found what remained of their loved ones in the background. "I would see this girl who claims to be the daughter of Lady Madelyn."

"And what would you do General," Sain asked. "If she didn't meet with your approval?"

"I'd take her into custody of course," he replied simply. "Impersonating nobility is a heavy crime."

"We won't allow that, sir," Kent said, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You?" Wallace asked, amusement evident in his voice. "Won't allow me? You must be..."

"I'm right here," Lyn shoved her way past. "My mother was Madelyn of Caelin and Hassar of the Lorca. I'll understand if you don't believe me but..."

"Oh I believe you."

"WHAT?"

Wallace turned at the collective outcry as Eagler trotted his stallion close. "Wallace, have you taken leave of your senses?" He demanded.

"She has her mother's face...and her father's eyes." Wallace said. "That fool never could lie worth a damn."

"But her mother's..." Eagler hesitated, eyes closed as his body trembled as if he was fighting a personal battle. With a deep breathe he swung himself down from his mount to tower of Lyn. Her body tensed as she tried to read what his intentions were, but even she was surprised as the man lowered himself onto his knee. "I've trusted Wallace's judgment for more than thirty years. I see not reason to doubt him now."

Slowly the soldiers behind him fell to one knee, armour clanking as men slid from horses, until only one remained standing.

"Bool!" Wallace boomed. "I believe you have something to tell us."

A look of panic and rage crossed his face as Bool yanked a spear from a kneeling knight, hurling it at Lyndis. Shifting in front of her Wallace's shield absorbed most of the force, but the spear still punched through the shield to scratch at his chestplate. "Stop him," Eagler yelled as Bool turned to flee. Arrows flew from behind the house, as Wil and Rathlet fly, to bounce harmlessly off his heavy armour.

"I've got him," Erk called out, running into the open, spellbook pages turning as he gestured in Bool's direction. "NO!" Mark screamed as, with a crackle of thunder, a bolt of lighntning slashed down from the sky to strike at the running man.

"You idiot," Mark yelled at Erk as they all converged on Bool's body. "We need him alive."

"It was either that, or let him get away. If he got into the wheat we could've lost him. Besides...," Erk retorted, as Bool gave a pained moan. "I held back."

"Take him to the main hall," Mark ordered as Bool was dragged to his feet groaning at the pain from his burns. "We have a cleric that can take a look at him."

The men holding Bool up looked at Mark, then glanced at Eagler. At his nod they dragged him in the direction Mark indicated. "Bool had mentioned that the girl'd been deferring to an older man with her," Eagler said, as both he and Wallace moved next to him. "You're not what I was expecting..."

"You make it sounds as if you were expecting a man thirty years her senior rather than three," Mark replied. "I assure you though that I go where she leads, rather than the other way around."

"I would hear how you came to meet the gir...I mean the Lady Lyndis." Eagler ordered.

XXXXXX

Stretching, Lyn opened her eyes with a start as she realised she'd nodded off. The sky was on fire as the sun was slowly sinking in the west. Beside her Florina and Ninian were both breathing quietly as they slept on the beds of straw that had been lain out for them by several of the rescued village girls. Rising to her feet she felt for her sword, wrapping the scabbard around her waist, before crawling from the small tent. At her appearance a pair of knights standing talking immediately snapped to attention as she walked past.

Nodding uncomfortably at the way she was being treated she wove her way to the main hall. Moving past the guards she found Serra still working busily, her hands glowing softly, as she moved her hands slowly across Bool's stomach. She scowled at the attention the man was receiving before retreating back outside.

"You walk the warrior's walk girl."

Whirling Lyndis found herself face to chestplate with Wallace. "You move quietly for a man in armour." She snapped, angry at herself for not hearing him.

"Moving quietly is a trick all veterans pick up," Wallace replied. "Kent was looking for you. Young man was quite frantic when he didn't find you in the tent."

"Woke up and felt like a walk," Lyndis shrugged, then looked closely at the large man. "She spoke like you knew my parents quite intimately. Though I have no idea who you are."

"Course you wouldn't," he replied. "You weren't even a thought at the time. I was your mother's guard and your father was my friend."

"I...have something I'd like to ask you." Lyn said. "It's about my mother."

"Ask me when this is all over."

"What?"

"Having something like that on your mind will only trouble you when the time comes to fight," Wallace said. "Focus on the things that you can change, not what you can't. Doing so will only lead to your, and those that follow you, death."

"Lady Lyndis!"

"Ah, your knight is dirt stained armour approaches," Wallace noted, amused, as Kent, Sain, Lillia and Falstad turned a corner.

"Milady, these are two of the others that were sent looking for you," Kent said as the two knights in white moved past him. The girl, Lillia, took out a small picture similar to the one Kent had had and her eyes flickered between it and her.

Nodding to her brother they both knelt before her.

"Enough of that," Lyn said, embaressed. She glared at the pair in green and red. "Didn't you tell them I don't like being bowed to."

"Like it or not Lady Lyndis, you're going to be getting a lot of it now," Sain said, a small smile on his face. "Better get used to it."

"Fine...whatever," Lyn threw her hands up into the air. "Have you seen where Mark is? I haven't had a chance to talk to him since we got ambushed."

"He's currently talking with commander Eagler," Kent said. His voice took on a strangely reserved edge. "He mightn't want to...be..."

Ignoring what he'd been about to say Lyndis strode past him, missing the hurt look on his face and the amused looks from the twins. With both Eagler and Wallace at their backs now she knew that soon she'd be standing before the walls of Castle Caelin. And win or lose, soon it would be over.

And for some reason she felt uncomfortable about that. Uncomfortable and scared.

XXXXXX

_**CASTLE CAELIN**_

_"Greetings brother dear. How are you faring?"_

_"Lundgren...you..."_

_"She'll be dead now, you know," Lundgren gloated. "You killed her as well as if you held the knife yourself."_

_"She's your blood, too...why would you..."_

_"Who cares about blood?" Lundgren snarled. "I did everything our father wanted, yet he chose you to be his heir. You, who let every opportunity to make Caelin great slip through his fingers. I despise you and your weakness, brother. You and your get. Once I've purged the weakness from MY realm it will be Caelin that will lead Lycia."_

_"Now shut up and die."_

**CHAPTER SIX END**

_This was possibly the hardest chapter to date to write undergoing at least three rewrites till I realised that I didn't NEED to kill off Eagler. Next up is Lyn's finale. Fingers crossed that this one doesn't get me stumped._


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

_**Homecoming**_

_****"There is no disease, only poison."_

_"Poison...that makes no sense. How is he still alive then?"_

_"They're probably administering it in small enough doses to allow it to mimic disease. If the Marquess was to die abruptly poison would be the first suspect."_

_"Bastard...has our guest told us anything else of value?"_

_(faint scream)_

_"No."_

_"Then he's of no further use to us."_

XXXXXX

_"Ma..."_

_"Mark?"_

He groaned as he rolled onto his back, his arm on fire.

_"MARK!"_

A hand grabbed at his shoulder and he bit back the scream that welled up in his throat. Opening his eyes he found himself staring into the face of a concerned looking Kent.

"Looks like you got worked over good," the red headed knight said as he dragged clear the tunic Mark had opted to wear as they'd entered Caelin. Taking in his bruises, Kent swore and motioned to someone at his back. Lucius, looking out of place in their current surroundings, placed a pair of surprisingly well callused palms against his body.

"I'm not as skilled as Miss Serra," the blonde man said, as his hands began to glow. "But all those who follow our lady, Saint Elimine, have some knowledge of her healing."

"You'll get no complaint from me," Mark replied, sighing in relief, as the pain began to ebb. Glancing around he grimaced at the smell of his cell. "Ugh...I need air."

"Be still," Lucius's frowned as Mark rose to his feet stepping out into the prison corridor. His hands made their way up to the stitches of his old wound. "This one is very deep. Are you sure you had Miss Serra look at it?"

"Before we got hauled in here," Mark replied, snatching back slipping on his shirt. "Where's Sain?"

"At the entrance getting dressed," Kent said, then hesitated. "A piece of advice. Don't let them know it hurts. It just adds to the sport."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I let myself get captured," Mark replied sarcastically as he pushed himself to his feet. "Now let's go."

Near entrance desk they found Sain and Florina, the latter still garbed in chainmail bearing Caelin's colours her hair cut short to accomodate the helmet and an older man clad in an outfit that might have once been considered fine cut.

"The lady comes bearing gifts," he crowed, whipping out a sword with an unblooded blade. "Say what you will about Lundgren, he doesn't skimp on quality."

"Is that steel?" Kent picked up his weapon from the wooden table. "These are brand new. I can still smell the grease."

"Wonder what he planned to use them for," Mark mused, before turning to the pale faced Florina. He spoke quietly, "Deep breathes. Remember our talk back at Merlius'."

The girl nodded, closing her eyes as she took several deep breathes. With colour returning to her cheeks she dug into her pack pulling out two small blades. "Lord Eagler sent these...with his compliments."

"Perfect," Mark grinned. He picked up a shirt of chainmail slipping it on over his head before pointing one of his blades at the unknown. "Who's this?"

"I'm chancellor Reissmann," the old man wheezed, the lines on his face more pronounced closer up. "When Lundgren learned that I was the one who delivered the letter from the lady Madelyn to the Marquess he had me locked away down here."

"Madelyn was killed by raiders...possibly in Lundgren's employ," Mark replied bluntly. At the stricken expression on the older man's face his expression softened. "Her daughter lives however. And Lundgren is in for a surprise if he thinks this is over."

XXXXXX

_She was just finishing her morning meal when the siblings pushed their way into her tent. Or rather Eagler's tent which he had surrendered into her care, despite her protestations. She nodded at the pair as Nils dropped himself onto her bed._

_"Where're the others?" she asked, putting down her bowl._

_"All accounted for," Wil announced as he pushed his way into her tent, Dorcas behind him. "Serra's busy giving Mark's shoulder and Kent's leg a once over before we leave."_

_"Are they in pain?" she asked, concerned._

_"Nothing serious," Wil reassured her. "Considering what they're going to be walking into she just wants to make sure that nothing unforseen comes up."_

_"Good," she said before turning to Nils and Ninian. "Are you sure you want to do this? Your faces aren't known, you don't need to..."_

_"You've been a friend to us lady Lyndis," Ninian said in that soft voice of hers. "It's the least we can do."_

_"Besides we have heard that the person we're looking for may be, or have at least passed through Caelin," her brother chimed in._

"I wonder who it is," she muttered to herself.

"Lady?"

"It's nothing WIl," she replied, focusing back on the task at hand. The years of peace had made people lazy since there was no acceptable reason for allowing the woods to reclaim land right up to the walls. This, and the dark, hid them from sentries on the wall.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" She heard Rath ask.

"How many times are you going to ask that?" Wallace replied, his irritation muffled by his desire to stay quiet, no mean feat clad as he was in his heavy armour. "It was my duty to guard it. I could find it..."

_"...blindfolded."_

_"Well that's a twist," Eagler remarked drily. At her questioning glance he elaborated. "Wallace here's famousfor three things. Fighting..."_

_"Drinking..." Sain continued._

_"And getting lost." Kent finished._

_"It wasn't that bad," Wallace grumbled._

_"Remember that time youwent looking for that big hipped kitchen wench? You ended up wandering into a brothel. Those twins were quite fond of you weren't..."_

_"Shouldn't we stay on topic," Wallace coughed, entire face reddening. "How're we going to tell our guys from..."_

_"I'd say this is on topic," Rath replied, speaking for the first time. "This entire plan depends on us finding that passage."_

_"I said I can find it...so I can find it," Wallace reiterated, anger begining to lace his voice. "If you don't think you can trust me, boy, feel free to go with Eagler."_

_"Calm down general," Mark said rising from his seat. "Rath is merely voicing a real concern. And he can't go with Eagler since his face is likely to be known to Lundgren."_

"Leave it be Rath," Lyn said, moving up next her fellow Sacaen, leaving Wil behind. "I trust the all have to now."

Ahead of Dorcas, Lillia and Falstad kept close to Serra, the young cleric surpringly quiet, as they moved slowly along the stone wall. Occasionally Wallace stopped and appeared to be getting his bearings before moving again in a confident, if slow, gait. Finally he stopped, running his hand along a particular block.

"This is it," he said, pushing the stone inward. At first nothing happened.

Then with an almost human groan a section of stone slid sideways, and they all jumped back as a blast of stale air exploded from the passageway.

"Quickly," Wallace ducked inside. "With all that noise we'll be lucky if no one comes to take a look."

Rath went first, using tinder to light a torch, followed by Serra who wrinkled her nose at the dank smell. Lyn came last, after which Wallace tugged at a hanging chain and the wall slid back into place. The passage was narrow and the light from Rath's torch did not extend very far.

"What now," he called.

"It's a straight line to the end," Wallace called back. "When you get there, look for a stone with three depressions in the shape of a triangle. That's the switch. You need to turn it clockwise till you hear the click."

"Till the click, got it," Rath called back as they started moving. "Anything else?"

"No, it was designed specifically as an escape," Wallace replied. "No traps, so I suggest we move with haste."

XXXXXX

Even his more modest calculations had expected at least some resistance. It was one of the first rules of strategy that no plan, however well laid, survived actual combat. The best you could do was adapt. But after the guards in the dungeon itself the castle felt deserted. They'd made it to the tower without running into any guards...or even servants.

And it worried him.

"Lundgren hardly paused before ordering a celebratory feast," Florina replied when he voiced his concern. "Said he was declaring a national day of rest."

"Would explain why we haven't seen any guards around," Mark muttered. "Probably doesn't want anyone seeing him when visits the Marquess for the last time."

"Hold up," Sain raised a hand, peering around the top of the staircase. "Speak of the devil..."

"How many?"

"Fi...no wait, six guards," he replied. "One just came out of the far room."

"Six is a bit much," Mark said. "But then again, I'm not seeing any way out other than the way we came in."

"There isn't, unless they can grow wings," Reissmann replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the window. Mark glanced nervously at cobble stone courtyard below. "There was some talk about building a new stairwell but..."

"You're overthinking it," Sain replied. "Lundgren's favoured men are off celebrating tonight in the main hall, or at their barracks. I recognise four of those guards. They'd only just earned their cloaks when we were sent looking for Lady Lyndis."

"So?"

"So watch this," with that Sain stepped around the corner into the open, removing his helm and tucking it under a shoulder, walking towards their six opponents.

"What the hell is he doing," taken by surprise Mark prepared to leap after the errant knight, before Kent laid a heavy gauntleted hand on his shoulder.

"Give him a minute," the red haired young man said. "He knows what he's doing."

Clearly bored, it took the men a few moments to realise that Sain was there, and another to recognise him. Whipping out their weapons they quickly surrounded him in a ring of glittering steel.

"Sain? What are you doing here?"

"How'd he escape from the dungeon? What about the rest of the prisoners?"

"Escape? I was never a prisoner," Sain laughed, facing a blonde man who looked barely out of his teens. A surprising thing in the face of the six swords currently pointed at his neck. "You ever known lord Eagler to lose a prisoner, Delvin?"

The line of blades wavered as the men glanced at one another nervously. Sain was right about one thing. These guys were definetly unblooded. Taking their eyes off an opponent, as well as not even considering that he might not be alone.

"Besides which, do you even know what you're protecting?" Sain continued smoothly, walking forward, forcing the men around him unconsciously into step.

Again the nervous looks.

"Well no...this wing's been locked down for some time now," the blonde he'd referred to as Delvin admitted.

"It's the first time anyone other than Lord Lundgren or his Iron Guard has been up here in weeks," another supplied.

"Really now," Sain's voice was slightly mocking. "Say what you will about Lundgren, he's no fool. He knows how to pick 'em."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He means that Lundgren stuck young inexperienced men, who are eager to please, to guard the second most important room in the castle," Mark answered stepping out into the open, with Kent, Florina and Lucius at his back. "We don't have all day for you to play games with them Sain."

"Chancellor Reissmann," Delvin bowed his head, his sword arm faltering as he and his comrades realised the position they were in. "We were told you were at your villa. When did you..." His words faltered as he took in the chancellor's condition.

"As you can see," Reissmann gestured at the state of his clothes. "I never left. Sain, I think they need to see for themselves what's been going on."

"I was getting to it," Sain replied, "She's going to be quite annoyed, so it's only fair that they get some warning."

"She? She who?"

XXXXXX

_"Just let me handle it."_

Before she could even protest Wallace stepped into the open, strutting for all the world, as if he had every right to be there.

The trip to the royal quarters had been far easier than she'd dared dream. It seemed like every guard was off for the night celebrating her _death_... It was quite disheartening considering what it was she was trying to do. She felt out of her depth, surrounded by all this stone, but was dragged back to reality as Wallace held up a hand.

_"Two guards,"_ he whispered, before stepping back.

"Only two?" Wil asked, as Wallace took a glance around the wall "Shouldn't be a problem."

"See that armour they're wearing, lad? And those weapons?" Wallace jerked his finger over his shoulder as he joined them. "Those're the Marquess's Royal Guards. Only a hundred ever at any one time. You don't want to mess with those."

Glancing cautiously around the corner all Lyndis could tell was that the armour worn by the two guards was far more ornate than that worn by any in Eagler's company...or even by Eagler himself. Painted gold with red trimmings, and a red plume on the full faced helms. She'd have laughed out loud if the situation wasn't so serious. The weapons however were another story, she'd never seen them before. "What ARE those?" she asked. "They look like axes...but..."

"Halberds," Wallace replied. "Very versatile, and especially deadly in the hand of an expert."

"So what do we do then," Serra asked. "Lucius and the others could be heading for the throne room any time now."

"Just let me handle it."

Both guards stiffened momentarily as Wallace turned the corner, then relaxed as they apparently recognised him.

"At ease gents."

"General," the one on the left inclined his head respectfully. "We hadn't heard of your return."

"Just got back," he replied. "I heard Eagler managed to find that girl that was giving Lord Lundgren so much trouble. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of her but...well..."

"Aye," the one on the right said, amusement echoing through his helmet. "If you'd like sir, I can get you to the main hall."

"Thanks lad," Wallace said, placing a large hand on each guard. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

With a sudden surge that took even his own comrades by surprise Wallace exerted the strength his meaty frame possessed slamming the two armour - clad men together, the clanging and rattling of their armour echoing off the stone walls. One slumped to the ground unconscious but the other, clearly made of sterner stuff, staggered back against the door gripping his halberd tightly. Before he could get his bearings however Wallace kicked out, the flat of his foot propelling the the man through the thick wooden door to skate across the floor before coming to rest at the foot of a large ornate wooden bed.

"Well done," Rath snapped. "If they didn't know we were here before they certainly do now."

"Then I suggest you and Wil watch the hallway," Wallace replied, an edge to his voice as he walked over, kicking the halberd out of the hand of the unconscious guardsman.

"Wallace...is that you?"

Lyndis's body jerked at the pitifully weak voice. What sat up in the bed could barely be recognised as a man. So thin was he that his linen bed clothes barely hung onto his frame and his white hair hung down in bedraggled strips. He focused a pair of watery eyes on the large group that had invaded his bed chamber.

"So my brother couldn't be bothered to finish me himself," he said, coughing. "But I never thought it would be you..."

"My lord...," Wallace knelt at the edge of the bed. "My loyalty lies, as always, with the man who pardoned me after my greatest failure."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Grandfather..."

The Marquess stiffened as Lyndis moved up next to the kneeling Wallace. He never noticed Serra as she moved to the opposite side of the bed, her hands glowing lightly as she placed them against his skin. "Madelyn? No...you're..."

"Lyndis," she finished for him, holding one of his hands up to her lips.

"Lundgren said that you were dead...," he whispered. "I'd thought..."

"He tried. Several times," Lyndis said. "But we're here now...I'm here now. And he will pay for what he did to my parents. And to you."

XXXXXX

"Suck it up. I didn't hit you THAT hard."

The expression on the bruised faces of the eight knights begged to differ Mark noted with amusement. All maintained a healthy distance from the tall, handsome woman walking at their head. Horrified at learning that they'd been holding Shira, Eagler's daughter, prisoner the men had forgotten about her apparent violent streak. And she hadn't bothered to differentiate between those holding her or the _idiots_...as she referred to Kent and Sain.

_"What took you so long?"_ She'd demanded.

Her blonde hair cut in a short, almost boyish, style which framed a very serious face. She had obviously been cared for judging by how well she filled out the leather leggings and the form fitting white tunic. Her most striking feature, however, was her slanted eyes which hinted at a mixed parentage. Eyes which were now narrowed as she caught Mark looking.

"Like what you see?"

He coughed and averted his eyes, picking up his pace to match stride with Kent. "Is she always like this?" he asked.

"You have no idea," he muttered in return. Reissmann, nearby, chuckled quietly.

The noise from the main hall began to pick up as they drew closer. The sound of music and clapping grew louder until they reached the overlooking balcony. Hiding behind the columns they looked down at Ninian as she spun and twirled to Nils's flute accompanied by the clapping of the seated men and women. The tables were arranged in a square shape and he could see Eagler sitting at the eastern table with a few of his officers around him.

"There's my father," Shira exclaimed, moving forward before being yanked back Sain.

"**WE** wait for the signal," he stated firmly. "**YOU** wait here!"

She looked down at where his hand gripped her shoulder. "You have three seconds before you'll never be able to use that arm again," Shira warned. Sain hastily removed the hand.

Mark nodded at Florina. The young woman replaced her helmet and trotted off in the direction of the staircase. The noise from the tables increased as Ninian kicked out with her feet before jumping into a spin that displayed a considerable amount of leg.

The end came rather abruptly as she spun her body rapidly to finish with a flourish and a bow facing the head of the table. Wrapping her sash over her shoulder, she was immediately surrounded by a plethora of eager young men. A glance over at Nils showed that the lad was in no better condition as he was besieged by a number of young...and middle aged women. He shook his head at the sight and saw what he thought was Florina talking closely with Eagler.

"How the hell does he do it," Sain grumped, looking in NIls's direction.

"Worry about that later," Mark replied, pointing in Eagler's direction as the general rose to his feet, calling for quiet. "Get ready to move. We have to keep the doors barred until Lundgren is dealt with."

"Why don't we just kill him now?" Shira asked, her eyes flinty as she stared in Lundgren's direction.

"Patience," Mark replied. "If Lyndis deigns to leave him alive you may get your chance."

_"My friends...I've served Caelin for over thirty years. Thirty years I have fought against it's enemies both external and internal..."_

"Lyndis?" her nose wrinkled. "Lord Hausen's supposed long lost grand daughter?"

_"...be it skirmishes with bandits or disputes with our neighbours I've always prided myself on giving my all. In my faith of our nobility..."_

"Both your father and General Wallace believe her claim to be legitimate," Mark replied. He gestured in the direction of his small force. "Kent, Sain, you two get the rest of them downstairs. Remember. Nothing gets in or out till this is over."

The two men nodded as they led their small group down the carpetted steps, the noise of their clanking armour drowned out by the noise downstairs.

_"...yet it all pales in comparison to what our nation has suffered in the last weeks. A threat to the very stability of not only our land, but to the League itself. I hold here in my hand an instrument of that threat."_

"What is that?" She looked at the small brown sack her father held.

"Our signal."

"Wait...where's my weapon," Shira demanded. "How am I supposed to..."

"We didn't go through all the trouble of rescuing you so you could get killed in front of your father," Mark replied tersely, looking down as a servant handed an eager looking Lundgren his _gift_. "You stay up here. Lucius, keep an eye on her."

He darted off and made it halfway down the stairs before he heard Lundgren's roar of rage and surprise at Bool's head tumbling from the sack.

XXXXXX

_"I've never encountered a poison like this before..." Serra said. "It mimics the wasting disease that ravaged Llia over two generations ago."_

_"Is there a cure?"_

_"No. The only solution was to allow the disease to run it's course," the priestess replied, her glowing hands hovering over the Marquess's chest. "My magic can rebuild some of his strength, but it's going to be rough going."_

_"What are you planning on doing? Sneaking me out of the castle?" The old man shook his head. "I'd rather die."_

_"You're not dying grandfather," Lyn said, rising from where she had been kneeling at his side. "Nor are we running...Lillia, Falstad, you two stay here in case there's trouble. The rest of you, we're going."_

_"What about these two," Erk asked, nudging one of the unconscious guardsmen._

_"Strip their armour and keep them bound," Hausen said, his voice already stronger. "If my brother's managed to turn members of my guard I'll need to know."_

_"Lead the way Wallace," Lyn ordered as the twins began. _

"Sounds like they started without us,"

"Must you always state the obvious, Wil?" Rath demanded, fitting an arrow into his bow.

"It's a gift," the young man responded, doing the same, as a pair of maids ran past them screaming in fear. Approaching the stairwell Wallace took a moment to glance over the edge before vaulting over the bannister. Eyes wide, Lyn joined the two bowmen at the edge in time to see Wallace land atop an armoured spearman. She could swear she felt the castle shake as the unfortunate man was forced INTO the stone from the weight of the bald general who then stalked off, axe at the ready, into the grand melee seemingly unfazed by the fall.

"Remind me again why you were picking a fight with him?" Wil asked, glancing over at Rath. The Sacaen gave the younger man a cursory glare before taking aim. His first shot was a kill, taking down one in green leather that was pressuring Kent...unmistakeable from his shock of red hair. Not to be outdone Wil's arrow was already in flight as Rath's victim fell to punch through the face of an armoured axeman unfortunate enough to be without a helmet.

"ARCHERS!"

The cry went up among Lundgren's supporters as another fell to another of Raths' arrow and three men charged up the stairs. Erk's hands glowed red as they screeched to a stop, falling over one another as they tried to back up. Twin explosions followed as two were catapulted back, their chests now flaming craters, while the third smashed his skull against the wall from the force of the explosions.

"Take it easy," Lyn snapped, as cracks formed in the walls. "We don't want to bring the place down."

Glancing over the bannister she tried to do a quick count as to how many of Eagler's men were left.

_"It's a simple enough solution," Eagler continued, looking in Wallace's direction while pointing at his chest. "Most of those with me are still in training. And they're required to wear my tabard until they're promoted."_

_As he finished twelve pair of eyes swung to look in Mark's direction. He looked around, confusion etched on his face. "What?"_

_"Isn't this the part where you find something wrong?" Erk raised an eyebrow._

_"He does have a point," Kent agreed._

_"I like it," Mark shrugged. "It's simple, and simple's good."_

Though she could see few unmoving bodies with the Horse and Shield tabard of Eagler, there were more without strewn across the room. Though it was still hard to tell who was fighting for whom as there were knots of fighting men and women without the identifying article. Swinging around, she took the stairs four at a time as she loped down, Dorcas behind her, pausing only to whip her lightly glowing blade across the throat of a charging opponent. Catching sight of Florina battling against two opponents she started to her friend's aid, leaving Dorcas to watch the passageway, only to find it not needed.

Dropping into a kneeling position the small woman extended her spear and spinning it around her body, tripping up her current axe wielding opponent and the spear wielding woman who had been coming up on her back. Leaping back to her feet, she brought the spear point around to slash through the throat of the axe man on the ground before pivoting to drive it through the chest of the other as she was rising. Pulling her weapon free Florina paused, panting, wiping away the sweat on her face with blood smeared hand leaving a crimson streak across her forehead. Her face lit up as she saw her friend.

"Lyndis...is your grandfather...?"

"He's okay, Serra's taking care of him." She paused to drive her sword through the back of a foppish looking swordsman pressuring one of Eagler's men. "Where's Mark? And Lucius?"

"Lucius's up top, keeping an eye on Eagler's daughter," Florina pointed. "And Mark went off to make sure Ninian and Nil's were safe."

The barred door rattled as those on the other tried to force it open.

"I don't know how much longer Kent and Sain can keep the door barred," Florina fretted. "They've got some kind of ram."

"Then maybe we better follow him," Lyn pointed in Wallace's direction where the man had cut a path to Eagler's side, both men pressuring who she assumed to be Lundgren.

The three men formed a tripod with both Eagler and Wallace hammering away at Lundgren's guard with sword and axe while the other man, looking as aged as his opponents beat them back with one those massive halberds she'd seen the two royal guards wielding. The immediate area around them was littered with bodies with and without Eagler's tabard. Even as she watched, as amazing as it seemed, Lundgren began to force back both men. A kick to the chest sent Wallace tumbling back while a jab with the haft had Eagler on his knees. A look of triumph on his face Lundgren swung his weapons in upwards arc. Swaying back Eagler managed to avoid having his face cut open but, with a bellow of pain and shock, he watched as his hand and sword were severed just above the wrist. Reversing his grip, Lundgren chopped down in a blow that would've split Eagler's head had it landed.

Crying out with the effort both Lyndis and Florina's arms ached as the blocked the blow with sword and spear. Shoving forward Florina attacked first, sweeping at Lundgren's legs forcing him to leap away. Not willing to give him a chance to recover Lyn vaulted over her friend pressing Lundgren back further, the Katti's blue glow leaving streaks in the air as she hacked and slashed at Lundgren's guard. Even though Florina now fought at her side Lundgren kept them at a standstill, then slowly began to force them back. Ducking under a horizontal swing, he shoulder charged Florina knocking her back. Turning his attention back to Lyndis he stalked forward his strikes knocking her back through sheer power. A backhand strike knocked the Mani Katti from her grip and a backhanded fist knocked her to the ground.

"So YOUR the girl claiming kinship with my brother," Lundgren gloated as he stood above her. "Pathetic."

"You'll play this farce to the end, won't you, Lundgren," Lyn spat blood as she struggled to her knees.

"The Royal House of Caelin has no need of a Sacaen mongrel," Lundgren hefted his halberd. "I'll put an end ot this foolishness here and now."

Lyn made a dive for blade, but knew there was no way she'd get to it before Lundgren struck. She closed her eyes and waited for the bite of steel on her flesh. Instead she felt her hand close around the haft of the Mani Katti. Opening her eyes she saw Lundgren defending desperately against an almost berserker like attack by a blonde, short haired, newcomer. A pair of arms hauled her to her feet.

"Lyn, you okay?" Florina asked. Lyn nodded, surprised at the question, considering the bruises on Florina's face.

"Talk later," she felt her spirits rise as she recognised Mark's voice. The part of her that had been worrying over his disappearance vanished. "Shira can't take Lundgren alone."

Shira?

Eagler's daughter?

Indeed Lundgren had halted his retreat and was again pushing back his opponent. A double handed strike sent the blonde young woman flying back, though the blow had been blocked. Leaping over him swung the Mani Katti savagely feeling the blade cut into the blade of Lundgren's halberd. Tucking herself into a roll at the end of her swing. She came to stop, spinning around in time to see Lundgren sway back as Florina stabbed downward in a two handed strike hard enough to to drive the steel tip of her spear into the stone floor. Before he could recover, Mark was on him. twin blades slashing and thrusting. Twisting her body around she snapped out a kick at Lundgren's legs sending him tumbling back.

With a yell, Mark leapt and drove both blades down. Lundgren however rolled away from the blow and staggered back to his feet.

With a cry of, "My lord," one of the Lundgren's supporters ran past him wielding a bloodied claymore, driving Mark back with wide swings. Before Lyn could even consider going to his aid, his opponents head all but flew from his body as Wallace charged forward, axe swinging.

Turning back to Lundgren Lyndis could see his swings becoming slower, as the look on his face attested to the exhaustion he had to be feeling. She could also see something else there as she twirled the Mani Katti idlely in her hand, raising it into a a ready position as she advanced.

Fear.

She could feel Mark on her left, and the clanking on her right let her know that Wallace was there as well. Lundgren began to back away, his swings becoming wild as he tried to drive back Florina and Shira. Florina struck first, her spear piercing his guard to stab deeply into the left side of his stomach just above the belt. As he staggered away, Shira opened a thin line across his cheek just under his right eye. He hacked wildly, driving them both back momentarily, trying to catch his breathe. Moving up, Lyn slipped into a ready postion alongside Florina and Shira. Mark drifted to Lundgren's left, while Wallace clanked to his right. Behind her she heard the sound of splintering wood, but she wouldn't waste a moment to glance behind her. Her entire world was the old man in rich clothes and the halberd in his hand...

He threw down his weapon.

"I surrender."

Lyn's eyes widened, then narrowed at his words. She gripped her sword tighly enough for the haft the cut into her palm. It would be so easy to just cut him down. She started raise her weapon...

"Lyn..." Florina grabbed at her sword arm, her head shaking.

"Don't even try it," Mark warned, as he grabbed the sword form Shira's hand. The blonde woman gave him a furious look before turning away and running to her father's side.

"Get up," Wallace growled, dragging Lundgren back to his feet. Lyn loosened her grip on her weapon, suddenly tired, allowing Florina to turn her away. Now that she had the time, she noticed the smashed door and men wearing armour similar to that of the Royal Guards talking with Kent. One of them pointed and she barely registered the sudden cheering, seeing her grandfather being helped down the staircase by Lillia and Falstad, Serra close behind. The old man moved slowly, carefully, over bodies and trails of blood.

He paused by Eagler, talking quietly to the man, as Serra took over from Lucius caring for the stump left of his left hand. He then turned his attention to their prisoner.

"Brother..."

"Save it Hausen," Lundgren snapped, then grimaced as Wallace pushed him to his knees.

"It's MARQUESS Hausen to you, traitor."

"Where's his cloaked friend?" Hausen asked.

"He...got away, my lord," Mark answered. At Lyn's look, Mark gave his head a slight shake. Hausen focused on his brother again.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense, brother?" Hausen asked. "Any reason why you would betray state and family."

Lundgren looked away, silent.

"What do I do with him, sir?" Wallace asked, keeping a tight grip on Lundgren.

"The dungeons," Hausen replied, waving two of his guards forward. "A few days on hard bread and water should make him more cooperative."

Flanked by the two guards Wallace marched off the unresisting Lundgren as Hausen sat tiredly on his throne.

"My Marquess," an man who looked to be around her grandfather's age stumbled forward, before dropping to one knee. "I feared the worst."

"Reissmann? Gods man, what happened to you?" Hausen asked, eyes wide at the rags the man was wearing. He gestured at a pair of guards. "You, take him to get some fresh clothes. And you get the servants in here with some fresh food."

In his element, the Marquess soon had everyone jumping to his tune as he set about getting his House back in order. Mark found himself working alongside Sain, Florina and Shira getting the heavy wooden benches and tables back into position. The others were busy helping to haul the dead bodies outside and into wagons. The traitors were to be burned, while those that died loyal would be buried with honors.

Despite this, the Marquess kept Lyn close at hand, as if fearful that she would disappear. Though embaressed by the attention she indulged her grandfather knowing him to still be weak. By the time they were done the sun was rising and with servants guiding them, they found themselves guided to guestrooms throughout the castle. Suddenly idle exhaustion hit Lyn like a mace and she dropped herself onto the soft bed, still clad in her blood spattered clothes, and was asleep in moments.

_(One week later)_

"I got approval!"

"That's great Flor," Lyndis smiled at Florina's joy. "I told you you didn't need to be worried."

"Worried about what?"

"Oh, Florina was worried that my grandfather's request for her service would be turned down," Lyn replied as Kent and Sain walked up.

"Congratulations Florina," Kent said. "I hope that..."

"To think that I will have the pleasure of gazing upon your beauty on a daily basis now," Sain declared. "This is indeed..."

"Shut it," Wallace demanded as he whacked Sain across the head. Behind him Mark snorted in amusement. "Shouldn't you two be at training."

"We were just on our way there," Kent answered swiftly, grabbing hold of Sain's shoulder. "Sir...ladies...Mark."

As the green and red garbed knights ran off Wallace also excused himself, stomping off in the direction of the kitchen. After a moment of awkward silence Florina also excused herself heading off to the stables, ostensibly to check on Huey, leaving Mark and Florina alone.

"So?" Lyn asked.

"So what?" Mark countered.

"Are you really leaving tomorrow?" Lyn asked. She'd been busy with her grandfather these last few days, and what little she'd seen of Mark he'd been short tempered.

"I've delayed it for quite a while," Mark admitted holding an arm out, gesturing for them to walk. "Everyone else has already left. Last thing I need is Erk getting back first and spreading stories."

Lyndis chuckled lightly at that, then turned serious. "I've been meaning to ask you. What happened when you said that Lundgren's partner escaped? You...hesitated."

"It's complicated...," Mark replied. "Let's just say that it couldn't have been who I thought it was. I need to make sure before I say anything."

"You say that as if you plan on coming back," Lyn said quickly, cursing herself for how hopeful she sounded.

"Of course I'd come visit," he replied, surprised. "You don't want me to?"

"I...Florina would miss you," she replied evasively.

"Florina, huh," he muttered, his expression hurt. "I need to start getting my things together. I'll see you at dinner...if you grandfather can spare you."

She stared at his retreating form feeling anger in the pit of her stomach. Why she was angry or who at she wasn't entirely sure.

"Lyn?"

She jumped at Florina's voice and realised that their walk had ended just outside the stables.

"It's not what you think you know," the smaller woman said.

"And what do I think?" Lyndis asked, irritated.

"He was helping me to deal with my fears, nothing more." Florina explained.

"What does that have to do with what I think," Lyn replied, averting her eyes. Florina didn't move, staring at her friend with a knowing look that had Lyn's face bright red. Finally she groaned in submission. "Okay...okay. But what can I do. He's clearly irritated with me. If I try to talk to him all we'll do is end up arguing."

"Then don't give him time to talk." Florina replied.

Lyndis was quiet at that. "Florina do you know what you're suggesting I do?"

"He's leaving tomorrow for who knows how long," Florina replied. "Do you want him leaving with doubts in his mind?"

XXXXXX

When he'd seen how empty the table was, Mark had opted to have dinner in his room. He'd considered looking for Lyn and apologising for his lose of temper but pride held him in check. Alone in his room he could admit to himself that he was jealous of the attention she was lavishing on the old man.

He missed her.

He raised his head at the knocking on his door.

"Just a minute," he called, smoothing out his clothes. "You're early tonight, I only just finished..."

He trailed off after opening the door when he realised it wasn't the serving girl here to pick up his tray. "Lyn? What..."

She placed a finger to her lips, quickly pushing her way in, closing the door behind her. She was clad in the simple light blue Sacaen garb that she'd been wearing when he first saw her.

"Does the Marquess knommmpphhh," for a moment he failed to comprehend what was happening. Even moreso when he felt her mouth open and her tongue prodded at his. Without thinking his tongue poked back wrestling with the invading organ as the long suppressed desire began to surge through his body.

"Lyn," he gasped out as they came up for air.

"No more talking," she replied unbuttoning the top and untying the sash, allowing the outfit to fall to the ground. She was naked underneath. "We spend far too much time talking."

_**Chapter Seven End**_

_I debated on whether to stop dancing around the issue before the end of Lyn's arc. I actually completed it first leaving the issue still in the wind, before realising I could work around their relationship easier if at least they had some closure. Next up. character progression leading up to the Eliwood/Hector arc._


End file.
